


Arrogance is the first happiness

by La_Mort_Rouge



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: But no final scene, Confrontations, Enemies to Friends, F/M, Humor, Post-Thor: Ragnarok (2017), Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:33:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 27
Words: 86,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27730825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/La_Mort_Rouge/pseuds/La_Mort_Rouge
Summary: Asgard is fucked up. The city was blown up into the air, the foundation was destroyed, here neither the tape, nor even the super-glue will help, no matter how many you take them. Thor, who (thanks to his sister) has recently acquired even more resemblance to his father, decided that there is no better place than the already suffering planet Earth, and Brunnhilde - the only one who knows how navigator works - set the route. But neither he, nor his brother, nor their new female friend suspected about a little problem sleeping somewhere near the wiring.
Relationships: Loki (Marvel)/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 20
Kudos: 65





	1. Prologue

Where did people come from? Some believe that they were created by Someone (these same people cannot decide on a single name to this day) up there, others - that evolution and the presence of a large number of primates are to blame for everything. In any case, there is room for lengthy debate, arguing for both theories. Cats are another matter. Ever wonder where cats come from? One person believed that domestic cats were former civets. And when people somehow discovered that civet could be extracted from the glands of these animals, the process of evolution was launched (what can you not do so that you are not used in perfumery). There is a flaw in this theory, however. Civets belong to the civet family, not felines, so this option can be eliminated. There is also a theory that cats evolved from saber-toothed tigers. This option also disappears, because if we draw an analogy with human evolution (if there was one), then between the whopper with can openers instead of teeth and an insolent ball of wool and universal gloating there must be several intermediate links. Couldn't 220 kg turn into 5 in one moment, could they? Thus, one option remains: Someone created cats. Moreover, this Someone was clearly more prudent than the One who, in the opinion of a certain part of humanity, created people. Firstly, cats were given a full set of qualities and brains necessary for life (in contrast to the same homo-sapiens, which create problems for themselves and then complain about them for hours). Secondly, this Someone waited until people appeared on Earth (no matter by which of the two methods), so that cats already had ready-made breadwinners. And thirdly, this Someone is definitely feminine, for only women are able to send a signal not to their hands and feet, but to the hands and feet of the one who will have to do it for them. In our case, a signal was sent to people to love and care for cats.

The first cat lovers were the Egyptians. They were the only people who knew exactly where the cats came from, and therefore treated them the way She wanted it: with respect and love. The cats, on the other hand, were purring and sometimes caught rodents. However, things went slightly downhill when people suddenly came up with a "brilliant" idea to sacrifice these very animals to their creator. This once again confirmed the fact that people were given an incomplete set of brains: who would consider it a good idea to appease a mother by killing her own children? However, She foresaw this, and therefore the cats were given nine lives in the hope that for the fifth or eighth time it would come to people that killing cats is not only unnecessary, but also quite long. It came to people only after hundreds of years. However, along with this, the thought came to them that it was somehow strange to worship the goddess of cats. They hastily forgotten about a bunch of other titles that people themselves endowed Her with. If no one thinks about them, then they do not exist, right?

There She is, sitting on her pedestal, beautiful and majestic. The white fabric of the skirt hugs her long tanned legs, the cat's head is lowered down, looks is directed at the sistrum, which She lazily twirling in her well-groomed hands. You probably know Her name. If not, then let me introduce you to Bastet - the goddess of cats, as well as the following listings that people were so quick to forget in their time: the goddess of Lower Egypt, the sun and moon, joy, fun and love, female beauty, fertility and home, protection from infectious diseases, evil spirits and war.

Bast put down her musical instrument, which has annoyed her enough for now, and stretched, yawning widely. How bored she was. Nut, her dear sister, has disappeared somewhere. Most likely somewhere in the sky. Perhaps she sitting now in one of those iron flying constructions assembled by people. Her brother Khonsu never had a taste for fun, and Bast only remembered him when the level of boredom was nowhere lower than now. Mahes… her son is still such a child, still plays war games. Would it kill him to visit his bored mother just once?

The daughter remained. The goddess sighed again, even more depressing this time. Dana, her pearl ... How many years have they not seen each other? How many hundreds of years? A lot, she had to admit. She ought to invite this cheat for a cup of milk.

Bast concentrated and closed her eyes. Just her eyes. But now at her disposal were the eyes of every cat. Billions of keen eyes in every corner of the world. And none of those eyes saw what she wanted.

After a few more minutes of active searches, Bastet opened her personal eyes. Dana was nowhere. At least on this planet. Unless she was somewhere in the ocean or in the snows of Antarctica. The maternal side of the goddess should have worried about her child, however, she knew her daughter too well, and was sure that if she had serious problems, she would have informed her (or simply would have faded away from these very problems, which was much more likely). But her feline side was gnawed by curiosity. Cats, by their very nature, have a great attachment to places, not to people, and it takes a real miracle to get a cat to get out of its familiar place. At least to get it out of there for a long time. That is why Bast was not famous for her visits. No, of course, she felt a certain affection for her relatives - after all, people also sometimes become attached to a pair of old slippers - but to yearn for someone's familiar face ... No, thank you.

Like any cat, Bastet's longing for her daughter lasted about 0.003 seconds, after which she again picked up the sistrum and began to play, purring something under her breath.

***

At the same time, at such a great distance from the cat goddess that words cannot describe, there was a rather tastelessly designed pile of metal, rubber, plastic and other materials called a spaceship. On this flying something there were several hundred Asgardians, among whom were two offspring of royal blood, an all-seeing eye and a thumping Valkyrie, as well as a couple of alien revolutionaries and a man who tried his best not to get nervous once again (which in such an environment turned out pretty lousy, as a result of which the amount of green increased markedly). And a little lower, where there were warm engines and a bunch of wires, another passenger muttered something in a dream and turned on the other side, instinctively moving closer to the power reactor, next to which it was so warm ... and so many multi-colored buttons and wires ...


	2. The yellow-eyed fury and how to catch it

On the spaceship, which now served as a home to the entire species, there was a very disturbing atmosphere. For most of the asgardians, who diligently avoided technical progress, huge flying machines were either new or associated with dark elves. The fact that Thor Odinson, the crown prince and more recently the king of Asgard, sat at the helm, did not inspire confidence at all. Rather, on the contrary, it made everyone nervous even more, because he had the same skill in aerobatics and navigation as Loki - in honesty and altruism. Not surprisingly, when the Valkyrie declared that the pilot's seat was primarily a pilot's seat, and not a royal throne, and sat at the helm herself, a wave of relieved sighs passed through the ship.  
  


After setting the route and switching the ship to autopilot mode, she collapsed in her chair and fixed her brown eyes into the depths of space, occasionally casting a sidelong glance at the control panel. Thor and Loki did the same, standing a little further away. No one spoke a word, and the silence was being broken only by the barely audible hum of technology. However, it was difficult to call this silence pacifying. Maybe the ligaments were resting, but the thought process did not even think to stop, pondering one thing or the other.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Loki asked his brother.

"Hm?" Thor did not understand.

"Flying to Earth."

"What?" he shrugged. "It is a good place. It's beautiful, the food is good, and outwardly we won't stand out..."

"I mean, are you sure it is a good idea to take _me_ to Earth?" clarified the god of lies.

“Definitely,” Thor said. “You’ve already been there, you’ll quickly get used to it,” noticing his brother’s ingeniously raised eyebrow, he hastened to add: “And if something gets into your head, they will quickly stop you."

"So confident in your friends that you are ready to risk the planet?" the trickster chuckled.

"Yes. I’m also sure that nothing threatens it. Not on your part."

“I don’t even know whether to take it as a manifestation of your naivety or an underestimation of my abilities."

"Better take it as faith in your good side."

"You meant, as hope for its existence?" Loki continued in the same tone.

Thor was about to answer when suddenly the dim lighting in the cockpit was replaced by a complete absence. Only the buttons on the control panel continued to glow slightly. The brothers immediately turned towards the Valkyrie.

"Told you, a drunk pilot is a bad pilot," Loki shook his head.

“It's not me,” the Valkyrie replied with displeasure. “And for your information, I'm sober right now."

"What a relief."

“Enough for you,” Thor hastened to intervene. "So what about the light? Short circuit?"

“If that was a short circuit, it would short everything,” the Valkyrie replied, fussing around the panel. “It looks like the cable that is responsible for lighting on this unit has disconnected from the power reactor,” she waved her hand, beckoning the men to her, and pointed to the diagram. “You see, everything is working properly in other units, but here,” she pulled a small lever a couple of times, “it doesn’t turn on, because there is no access to energy.

"Why does the panel work?" god of thunder asked.

"The panel is connected to a separate power supply. It, of course, is also connected to the main reactor, but even if it cracks, the accumulated energy will last for a while, ”the Valkyrie switched the slide and a detailed plan of some room was displayed on the screen. "Here is the reactor, and on this side - the cable. Just find the one that is not connected and fix the situation. All clear?

"Why us?" The brothers asked in unison.

"Why not? I am a pilot, I have to stay in the cockpit, the others are either asleep or busy with their own business, but you are not busy with anything. So go ahead."

In the absence of counterarguments, the royal part of the crew went to execute the pilot's command. As the Valkyrie said, only they had problems with the light. This was good news, because it was quite far to go to the system unit, where all the vital equipment for the ship was located, and there were more than enough sharp corners, irregularities and everything else that you could run into or stumble upon.

Along the way, they now and then ran into asgardians, cautiously wandering along the corridors. It was clear that the confusion and tension from recent events and the new environment had not yet passed, but interest in the new environment was a good sign. The adaptation process was launched as soon as the fear receded. A day or two, and suddenly it would all be normal, Loki was sure of it. He was well versed in the nature of people, both people from Earth and the inhabitants of Asgard... or rather, the inhabitants of this ship now. Everyone wants everything to be normal. Nobody likes it when the normal course of business changes. The same will happen when they reach Earth. Asgardians will be nervous for a while, and then they will join the general stream, as if this is not another world, but just a move to a new home. They, like humans, do not have a strong attachment to the place. As his brother said: "Asgard is all of us." Therefore, everything will be fine, as long as there are familiar faces nearby, and the setting... well, this is nothing more than scenery.

_Although there will still be certain difficulties_ , Loki thought. In the same way that technical progress avoided his brother, calmness avoided him. Loki's thoughts continued to lead an active lifestyle, forcing him to think about every detail. This, of course, has helped the trickster out of his troubles more than once, but after recent events he would like to rest a little. _A vast area will be needed to accommodate several hundred aces. Then, of course, they can be distributed throughout the planet, but at first they will most likely prefer to stick together. Moreover, they will have to be explained how Midgard works, what, where and how ... The most difficult part is still ahead._

"Thinking again?" Thor's voice rang out like a bolt from the blue. .

"I always think, Thor, and I would advise it to you as well. Quite a rewarding activity. Especially if you do it before you do something."

"Come on, as if I never think about my actions!"

"To be honest, that is exactly what it is."

“Hey, this time I thought it over well before ste… borrowing that ship,” Thor replied with a touch of self-satisfaction. "I even managed to outwit you."

“It was an isolated incident that only confirms the theory,” the trickster shrugged.

"Away with you," Thor waved him off, to which his brother only grinned. Perhaps the elder Odinson began to practice using the brain, but verbal battles he still has to learn and learn. "Oh, it seems that's the place."

They stopped in front of a large iron door, on which someone had pasted signs in different languages, but with the same content: “Dangerous! Do not enter!". Although, according to Loki, if someone really wanted no one to meddle in here, he should write "Welcome, come in!" Nothing stirs up rebellious instincts like a ban.

It was almost as dark inside as it was now in the pilot block, except that there were many more buttons, wires and other backlit nonsense, so the visibility was less. However, everyone was glad to find a switch for bright lamps on the ceiling. Rather, almost everyone...

As soon as the system unit was filled with light, there was either a hum or a growl. The men immediately tensed.

_It looks like the cable didn’t come loose by itself_ , Loki thought as he pulled out his daggers.

"See anyone?" Thor asked quietly, looking around and carefully walking forward.

"No, but the sound came from there," answered the trickster, nodding towards a large round thing with a bunch of wires, buttons, panels and other things called a power reactor.

As soon as they approached a couple more steps, they heard some rustling. Whatever it was, it seemed to know that it had been discovered.

“Let's go around on both sides,” Thor suggested, continuing to look around, but now in search of some weapon. Not finding one, he whispered to his brother: "Loki, give me a dagger."

"You can do without," he answered, bypassing the reactor on the left.

“Greedy,” the god muttered offendedly under his breath, heading to the right.

They came close enough to the reactor, but so far they have not seen anyone. However, they heard growling rather clearly now. It was coming from somewhere below. The brothers looked at each other in bewilderment. Between the floor and the circular power source was a palm-sized gap. Thor bent down and tried to look under the reactor, but he could not see anything. Then he, without thinking long (or, more precisely, without thinking at all), somehow put his hand in there and wanted to try to find the source of the sound by touch, but before he had time to shove half of his forearm into the slit, something grabbed his hand. This "something" was very sharp, there was a lot of it, and it was also very painful. The thunder god sprang to his feet as if scalded, holding his bloody hand.

Loki couldn't help but grin. Think first and then do? No, this tactic is clearly not for his brother. Having enjoyed the suffering of Thor, the trickster lowered his eyes, carefully watching whether the troublemaker would jump out of his hiding place. Then his gaze caught on something else, which should not be here. Footwear. Women's shoes, to be more precise. Brown sandals with long heels, around which a cable was wrapped, most likely the very cable that was responsible for supplying electricity to the pilot unit. The god of lies began to examine the floor even more closely. He noticed a piece of denim peeking out from under the reactor, and under a pile of multi-colored wires a bag was hiding, or at least was trying to hide. One could get the impression that someone was trying to bring order to the maximum in the shortest time. He looked back at the jeans. The amount of tissue peeking out from under the reactor gradually decreased. Whoever was hiding, it was clearly in no hurry to part with its things. Although, in order to stuff a bag under the reactor, it will have to try very hard. First of all, the creature will have to get out of its hiding place.  
  


Loki approached the bag. There was another growl from under the reactor. When trickster began to remove the wires that hided the bag - also a woman's alike sandals - the growl intensified. An idea arose in the mind of the god of lies.

"Thor," he called for his brother. "Give me your cape. Or rather, what was left of it."

He looked at his brother in bewilderment, but decided not to ask unnecessary questions and silently held out the red cloth. Loki wrapped it around one arm, and with the other called his brother to him.

"See the bag?" Thor nodded. "Take it."

"Why?" this time, he could not resist the question.

"Just take it."

"Is this part of some dodgy plan?"

“You could say that,” Loki shrugged. "Come on already. I promise it won't end with anyone's death."

The last phrase sounded reassuring, Thor thought, and reached with his unharmed hand for the bag. As soon as his fingers closed on it, a shadow flew out from under the reactor with the speed of a ballistic missile, with the clear intention of turning those very fingers into mincemeat. The other hand, which in time grabbed the creature by the scruff of the neck, prevented "shadow" from reaching its goal. The animal - and it was clearly it - somehow twisted and grabbed four paws and teeth into several layers of dense tissue. The inability to tear the hand holding it into blood clearly angered the creature, which it hastened to express by growling, snorting, hissing and more persistent attempts to bleed the offender.

"Such a small animal, and such a noisy one," Loki said displeasedly, holding the quirky and scratching animal with his hand wrapped in cloth. "Do you know what it is?"

Thor carefully examined the source of the problem. It was a four-legged, tailed, brown-haired creature, in whose arsenal, as he had already seen, was a set of sharp claws and teeth. The animal looked very familiar...

“I think I saw someone similar on Earth,” Thor said uncertainly, continuing to examine the animal, but slowly coming closer. Finally, the desired memory surfaced. "Yes, exactly! It's a cat. People have them like pets."

Loki looked at the animal continuing to struggle, scratch and bite and raised an eyebrow in surprise. Humans continue to amaze him. He would like to meet a man who, looking at this snorting yellow-eyed fury with a flattened head, would decide: “That's what I lack at home for complete happiness!”. Then he remembered about sandals and jeans.

"And these bea... cats, do they wear clothes and shoes?" The trickster asked, still staring at the animal. And when will this pest get tired of scratching and biting?

“Uh, I don’t think so,” said Odinson. "By the way, where is the women's bag from?"

“I suppose, from the same place where these sandals came from,” Loki nodded in the direction of the shoes. "And something tells me that if you put your hand under the reactor again, you will find more interesting things there."

Thor hurried to check. With difficulty squeezing his hand under the power reactor and feeling the floor, he, in addition to a thick layer of dust, found there a tank-top, jeans and, to his embarrassment, a set of women's underwear. The retrieval of all of these items of women's wardrobe was accompanied by a loud displeased growl from the cat. 

  
“Um,” Thor said thoughtfully. "And now what?"

"How about putting the cable back in place?" Loki suggested. The cat had stopped trying to devour his hand and now, continuing to cling to the remnants of the cape with all four limbs, it was drilling him with its yellow eyes. "And how do humans put up with these creatures?"

“Well, people love cats,” said the thunder-god sitting by the cables. "And cats love people. So it seems."

  
Loki turned his gaze back to his brother's blood-drenched hand and then to the animal. The expression on its face was almost screaming: _"Come on, loosen your grip even for a second, and I'll gut you right there."_

"If so, then humans have a rather perverted concept of love."

"Well, that seems to be all," Thor got up from the floor and shook off his pants. "Let's go?"

“Come on,” Loki answered and headed for the exit. The cat began to turn its head, checking the situation and, most likely, planning retreat moves in case it managed to break free from the trickster's grasp. "And take a bag of things with you."

This time, on the way back, the brothers were accompanied by surprised looks. Although, most likely, these gazes were intended not so much for them as for what Loki was holding in his hand. There were no cats in Asgard, and this earthly curiosity attracted a lot of attention, especially from children. From the muffled growl and the way the yellow eyes darted chaotically, the trickster realized that such an amount of attention did not cause much delight in the cat.

In the pilot block, dissatisfied with the long wait Valkyrie was waiting for them.

"Why did it take so long?" She asked, before Thor's foot had time to touch the floor. "Is it that difficult to find the only cable not connected to the port?" Her gaze dropped lower and her dark brows furrowed. "What happened to the hand? And where, and most importantly, _why_ do you need women's clothing?"

“Not what, but who,” Loki corrected her, entering after his brother. "And at the expense of clothes, do not worry, this is not for him. You see, we have one little problem."

"Which one?" Valkyrie asked, totally confused.

"This one," Loki stretched out his hand in front of her, which was holding the cat (or rather, to which this very cat was holding). “Just don't get too close if you don't want to get hurt."

The Valkyrie looked at the animal blankly for several seconds, until it turned its head to her, and her face suddenly took on an expression of extreme surprise. The cat was no less surprised, judging by the fact that it stopped clinging to the trickster's arm with all four limbs.

"Dana?" Brunnhilde uttered in disbelief. Before that, only the growling, hissing and snorting beast issued a short “meow”. "Loki, let cat go."

"Perhaps into the abyss," answered the trickster, remembering the look with which evil yellow eyes had drilled him all the way. The cat growled. "See?"

"Ok, here's the deal: you unclench your fingers, and I will hold the cat," the Valkyrie took the animal under its front paws. "Let go."

Loki unclenched his fingers and in an instant overcame three meters, increasing the distance between himself and the yellow-eyed fury, which was now sitting calmly in the woman's arms.

"Is he yours?" Thor asked her.

“First of all, it's her,” replied the Valkyrie. "And secondly, no, not mine. But I know her well." She looked at the animal. "We divided the rent for ten years. Thor, give me the clothes."

God of thunder put things on the table. The Valkyrie lowered the cat, forcing Thor to move to his brother in the blink of an eye, also not eager to be near the walking set of claws and teeth. The cat sat down next to the rumpled clothes and looked displeased at the three.

“Turn away, guys,” the Valkyrie commanded and turned her back to the animal.

The brothers looked at each other, but obediently followed the instructions. After a couple of seconds, there was the rustle of clothes, the sound of a zip fastened and the sound of heels on the metal floor.

“I'm done,” came a deep female voice.

Turning around, they did not find the cat. In its place, leaning against the table, stood a moderate young woman with tanned skin and a shock of shiny brown hair. Her slightly plump lips were pursed in displeasure, and her yellow eyes with a cat's pupil almost flashed lightning from anger and indignation. A wonderful sight. However, the forest-fire is also a wonderful sight, but it is better to admire it from afar.

The Valkyrie looked the woman from head to toe and grinned.

"Haven't seen each other for a long time, friend."


	3. Who will win?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://pin.it/6fYvJGH  
> Not exactly what Dana looks like, but very close

Dana was angry. Word “angry” in this case would be highly inappropriate, though. She was furious. And her condition was justified. Imagine yourself in her place: you are sleeping in a quiet, dark and warm place after a three-day spree, you have a wonderful dream... and then some bastard turns on the light! You either growl or groan displeased, in the hope that the hint will be understood and you will be allowed to sleep for another couple of hours, because your head is splitting as if a herd of elephants had walked back and forth to the watering hole and your mouth is so dry that any cactus will wither. But no! These bastards - and the fact that there are two of them becomes clear rather quickly - will not think to leave. On the contrary, they seem to crave meeting and companionship. Plan B appears in your head quickly. You hide ... well, not exactly hide ... you cover your precious bag with wires, realizing that it simply won't fit under the reactor. You get smaller (let’s call it that), you first push your bra and panties under the reactor (they are the easiest ones), then a tank-top, and then with jeans in your teeth you climb under there yourself, because those jerks' steps are already very close..

You, of course, do not lose hope that they have brains and continue to growl, trying to convey to them the essence of things, but it seems these morons were given an incomplete set of brains. Not only are they not going to leave you alone, but one of them also reaches to you with his hand! Realizing that your numerous warnings have been ignored, you try to convey the information in a different way... And judging by the cry and the verbal expressions, the message did get through!

Taking advantage of the fact that they no longer try to reach to you, you remember that part of your jeans is still outside and you are in a hurry to rectify the situation. But as you slowly pull the pant leg towards you, you notice someone's arms and legs near your bag. You hate it when something that belongs to you is touched. The growl escapes you on its own and seems to work this time as the bag is left alone. The bastards are talking about something, but you're more interested in your jeans right now. Will be no goon if they get attention too. And now, when you have almost dragged your only pants under the reactor, you notice that a familiar hand is reaching for your bag - the same one that reached to your face a couple of minutes ago, only this time it’s a left one. Here your shattered nerves can not stand it, and you decide to dot the "i" s in what seems the only effective way... and then the second jerk grabs you! What's worse is that this bastard seems to have inherited most of the meager intelligence these two have given. He thought of wrapping he hand well, fucking bastard!

Then you are given an excursion, about which you did not ask anyone, during which everyone is staring at you, and you begin to understand that your chances of sleeping peacefully are decreasing and decreasing, and therefore you get angry more and more until the mark of your mood passes all possible levels of the anger scale and stops somewhere in the area of the fury scale.

That was where a mark of Dana's mood stayed now, ecactly, and a meeting with a friend hardly contributed to at least a return to the scale of anger, let alone just a bad mood. The woman was especially enraged by the face of that bastard, whose hand (as well as other parts of the body) she so wanted to tear to shreds, but couldn’t. The second one also infuriated her, but not so much, if only because he, albeit partially, but received what he deserved.

_Just give me a reason_ , Dana thought while glaring murderously at the hated brunette, who continued to stand at a safe distance, once again proving that he did managed to figure out the instructions for using the brains, _and_ _I will scratch out your pretty blue eyes for you._

He seemed to had heard – or at least understood – what the woman was thinking, and grinned slightly, which pissed her off even more. Not only did he wake her up, grab her by the scruff of her neck, carry her all over the ship, but now is also smiling, bastard! Oh no, perhaps she will not limit herself with his eyes alone...

“Are you gonna continue to stay silent?” a familiar voice brought Dana out of her thoughts, which would have horrified even the most zealous inquisitor, and made her pay attention to her friend again. Something about her worried her, though...

“Are you…” the woman inhaled air and narrowed her eyes. “Are you sober?!”

“Hello to you too, friend” the Valkyrie responded with displeasure. “How’s the life?”

“Decreasing, believe it or not,” she quipped. “But what happened to you that you suddenly decided to join the ranks of sober people?”

“I am now acting as a pilot.”

“And when did it ever stop us?” she asked in the same voice that moms usually address children with the words: "And to whom is mom going to do a bath now?" “Whatever, hell with it, if you do not want talk about it, you will tell me later. Now there is a more important topic.

“I agree,” the Valkyrie nodded. “How did you…?”

“What the fuck is going on here?” Dana interrupted her, again directing her gaze flaming with fury in the direction of the troublemakers. “Why the hell is this ship crawling with people, and why the hell is this ship in outer space now? And most importantly, why the hell did these fucking bastards stop me from getting a good sleep?!”

“Hey!” Thor responded with displeasure, coming closer. “Actually…”

“One more step, flaxen-haired brute,” Dana threatened him, showing a hand with sharply lengthened nails. To complete the picture, the only thing missing was the cartoon-like "zing", “and you will quickly lose your second eye. I hope the voice warning is enough for you _this time_?”

Thor involuntarily looked at his hand. It is not so easy to injure an asgardian, seriously injure, but this woman coped with the task perfectly, turning the beginning of the forearm and hand into a catalog of deep scratches, bites and gore. This time, the brain of the thunder-god, presence of which the woman (and not only she) doubted very much, managed to work faster than the body, forcing his legs almost fused with the metal floor.

“Good boy,” she purred with a satisfied grin and turned to the Valkyrie: “Now, my chocolate candy with alcohol filling, start talking. I'm all about attention.”

Seeing what mood her friend was in, and realizing that until she cooled down even a little, a normal conversation would not work, the Valkyrie hurried to begin the story. She was talking leisurely and in all the details, hoping to take as much time as possible with this story so that Dana's fuse could subside a little. She continued to stand, leaning against the table, listening attentively and occasionally throwing very eloquent glances towards Loki. The Valkyrie did not know who to sympathize with more: the cat's half-goddess or the god of lies. She understood perfectly well that the matter would not end on a silent exchange of glances and smirks. Quite soon, barbs and poisonous phrases will be used, and then it will be not far from action ... Loki is a master of all sorts of dirty tricks, this is almost his specialty, but Dana is also a lover of fooling around. Oh, and the vindictiveness of this woman, and her jerkiness. The same list includes selfishness, arrogance, bitchiness, irritability, absolute self-confidence, impenetrable stubbornness, and much more (it is much easier to list the negative qualities that she does _not_ possess). And this whole set will now be brought down on the trickster ...

_Well_ , flashed through the Valkyrie’s head, _that sucks for him. Sucks a lot,”_ a list of everything that this "unfortunate" had managed to do suddenly appeared in my head. _On the other hand, it will be a fair payment for all the sins he committed_.

“… Well, that's all, in general,” the Valkyrie finished the story. “And now, maybe you can explain how you got here?”

“You saw it yourself,” Dana replied and again looked at Loki with an all-hating look that he stoically endured, “this bastard brought me here.

“His name is Loki ...” began Thor, but was immediately interrupted.

“I don’t care what his name is, I won’t address him by it,” an eloquent glance was also thrown in the direction of the thunder-god, but with less concentration of hatred. “Neither you, by the way. In any case, the name Bastard suits you both much better.”

“And Bitch suits you better,” the trickster answered in the voice of a gentle snake. There was a caustic, carefree grin on his face. “Though, the Bastard also sounds good...”

“Wow! Look who has a voice cut through,” Dana said in a mocking tone, stretching her beautiful lips in a grin too. “Was cat holding your tongue all this time?”

“It would be better for one certain cat to hold her own tongue.”

“Otherwise?”

“Otherwise, she will suddenly discover its absence.”

“If this happens, someone will find that they have acquired a noticeable resemblance to his brother,” the woman showed her claws again, and Thor (whose legs never changed their position) instinctively closed his only eye.

_And_ , the Valkyrie sighed resignedly _, here we go…_

“What about you postpone your showdown for later,” she suggested. “Dana, how did you end up on the ship?”

“You won’t believe, I just came here,” answered the brown-haired woman.

“I'm serious.”

“So am I.”

“Dana.”

“Brunnhilde.”

“Brunnhilde?” Thor said. “You have a name?”

“Just imagine, goldilocks, living creatures have names!” Dana answered him. “Some also have a surname. Want me to explain the difference between them?”

“I know, there’s no need to be like that bi… that sarcastic,” the thunder-god corrected himself in time. “I was just surprised.”

“Well, you didn’t think that all the Valkyries are called Valkyrie, did you?” Brunhilde asked.

“Um… yes?”

The friends looked at each other.

“Is he always like this, or did someone manage to hit him well on the head during the battle?” Dana asked.

“Always.”

"And all those people... I mean, the Asgardians made him their king?"

“Yes.”

“Yeah,” Dana uttered. “You definitely chose the right course: you have a lot in common with people. Logical thinking, for sure.”

“Let's get back to my question,” the Valkyrie suggested. “How did you get here?”

“I already gave an answer to this question. Do you have head problems too?”

“Shall we formulate the question differently,” Loki cut in. “ What events preceded your appearance on this ship?”

“I don’t intend to answer your questions,” the woman almost hissed. “Though, the wording is really correct, take a candy from the shelf.”

“Dana,” Brunhilde repeated wearily, “please.”

“Well, if you are asking…” the brown-haired woman sighed indulgently. “Do you remember Stellar?”

“The one with the green hair?” Dana nodded. “I do. She has a workshop on the outskirts.”

“She remembers you too, considering that you are her regular client with your drunken piloting.”

“Well, I’m still far from your driving “skills”,” sarcasm appeared in the Valkyrie's voice for the first time in the entire conversation. Her friend had a very peculiar knowledge of the rules of traffic on the road and in the air: she was firmly convinced that her business was to go or fly to her goal, and everything else should have time to dodge in such a way that she, ultimately, reach the right place. “Remind me, how many times did you have an accident?”

“That’s not the point here,” Dana quickly changed the subject. “So, Stellar. She had a difficult day, although it later turned out that the difficult day had lasted for a year. Work is a complete mess, the children are going through puberty, and she also quarreled with her husband ... She, of course, would have gone to her mother, only she had died a month ago. So, she turned to me for moral support. Well, with a bottle of martini, of course.”

“You wanna say, a bottle of martini brought you here?”

“No, a bottle of martini brought Stellar and me to the nearest bar,” Dana corrected her. “Because we have not yet had time to drag her husband’s name properly, when the contents of the bottle was already gone. At the bar, we decided that gin and tonic were much more suitable for a conversation about "Men are jerks." The discussion went on until the bartender ran out of tonic and we had to switch to scotch. And then for cognac. And for absinthe. What drinks went on then, I do not remember. But I remember that Stellar and I were somehow transported from the bar to the club. Then to karaoke. And then again to the club, but that time a different one, and we had fun until the asshole, which she had a mistake to marry, called and told her to return home, because he, you see, the poor thing cannot cope with children! Stellar is also good, instead of sending him to hell, she caught a taxi and drove off. Did she even think that her departure had deprived me of my interlocutor? And so the party ended...”

“And instead of going home, you went to the grandmaster?”

“I wanted to go home. I spent hours remembering...”

“Taxi number?” clarified the Valkyrie.

“My address.”

“You didn’t manage to remember, I suppose?”

“I may have been drunk, but not enough to completely forget the address of my own apartment,” Dana replied displeased. “But I was drunk enough for my tongue to lose the ability to pronounce some letters clearly. It looks like our addresses with the grandmaster sound similar, because the taxi driver brought me to him. It also seemed like he was having some kind of party then, because guards let me inside without any questions. I got a little unwound on the way and by the time of my arrival the last thing I wanted was parties. I wanted to find some kind of bed and pass out, but damn it, what noisy guests this upstart has... So, I started looking for some quiet, dark and warm place to rest, and I found this ship. The warmest place was near the power reactor, so I turned off the light, closed the door and fell asleep. If you only knew what a good dream I had ...” the woman sighed dreamily. “And then these two came and turned on the light. You know the rest.”

"Wait a minute," Brunhilde looked surprised. “Are you saying you slept in the system unit all this time?”

“Yes, and would continue to sleep there and further, if not for these bastards.”

“You have slept _all this time_?” the Valkyrie specified again.

“Yes, and I don’t understand what surprises you,” irritation appeared in Dana's voice. Not that it wasn’t present there from the first minute of their conversation, but now there were even more of it. “I had a three-day spree.”

“And you only woke up when these two turned on the light?” continued the Asgardian.

“Is it a special date today that everyone gets so hard on?”

“You are saying, that when Loki with a handful of revolutionaries sto... borrowed this ship, when hundreds of Asgardians rushed into it in panic, when a battle was unfolding a couple of meters from it with shouts, shooting and so on, and even when the whole of Asgard flew into the air, you,” there was a short pause, “you’ve been sleeping peacefully all this time?”

“Yes,” Dana replied. “And if you ask me that question again, I’ll give you a good knock on the head.”

“ _How_?!”

“With a hand. And if you continue to blunt, then with a chair.”

“No, I mean, how could you sleep all this time?”

“The same as always: sound and with great pleasure.”

“Are you sure that during your spree, you limited yourself to only alcohol?” The Valkyrie asked suspiciously. “Didn't you drink anything suspicious?”

“The only suspicious thing here is your sobriety,” the brown-haired woman answered with growing irritation. “Over the thirty years of our friendship, ten of which we spent living together, you could already get used to the fact that I sleep soundly and for a long time, although I sometimes fall asleep with difficulty.”

“However, a couple of lamps on the ceiling woke you up easily,” Loki said thoughtfully. “I would not call it sound sleep.”

“Let’s shine a spotlight in your eyes and see how you like it.”

“Try it,” the trickster shrugged. “If you can get close enough to me.”

“You don’t think I can?” She purred with voice as sweet as arsenic.

“Not think, but know for sure.”

“I walk very quietly.”

“And I have a very sensitive sleep.”

“A couple of "food additives" in meal and your sleep will noticeably grow stronger,” Dana grinned. “Perhaps, if I'm lucky, it will grow so strong that you never wake up at all.”

“Keep dreaming,” Loki grinned back.

“Dreaming is about something unrealizable, but my plans are quite feasible.”

“Hey, maybe that's enough already, huh?” Thor interjected into the conversation (if _that_ fit the definition of a conversation), raising his hands in a soothing gesture. “We are gonna stay together ... how much is from there to Earth?”

“Let's just say,” the Valkyrie began cautiously. “The distance is great.”

“I think my brother wanted to know how long we have to tolerate each other's company,” Loki paraphrased and looked at Dana again. “More precisely, how long we have to tolerate her.”

“We have to fly for a couple of months,” answered Brunnhilde. “With tons of stops for refueling and restocking food, medicine and so on.”

“Stops are good,” the trickster said to himself. “There is a chance that someone will get lost.”

“Oh, so you also suffer from topographic cretinism as well,” the reply was immediately followed. “The chances of getting rid of your company are growing by leaps and bounds. What a pleasure!”

“If you don’t want to be here, no one is holding you, you can leave right now. We are just flying past some godforsaken planet - there certainly no one will bother you.”

“Since you…”

“The fact that you are not delighted with each other, we all already understood,” the Valkyrie interrupted her friend, which earned another look full of displeasure. Of course! Thanks to her remark, Loki had the last word. For Dana, it’s the same as if the Valkyrie personally handed the winner's cup to the trickster. But, despite the discontent on the part of her feline majesty, the Asgardian continued: “However, it just so happened that we all ended up here and we all stay here for a long time. Luckily, the ship is big, so since you’re not so fond of each other, why don’t you just try not to catch each other's eyes?”

“Not delighted is an underestimation,” the trickster muttered.

“It doesn't matter whether I see his annoying face or not, I am not satisfied with the very fact of his existence,” Dana crossed her arms in displeasure. “This bastard pisses me off.”

“Wow, our feelings are mutual!”

“What a pleasure,” the woman quipped.

“Maybe you two just shut up and all?” Thor suggested in a completely sincere voice.

Two pairs of displeased eyes immediately stared at him, forcing him to raise his hands and involuntarily step back a couple of steps. Compared to Loki and Dana at this moment, Hela seemed to be the sweetest creature in the universe.

“Um-m, or continue, whatever you like...” the king of Asgard mumbled uncertainly and stared at the space landscape, which suddenly acquired an unprecedented appeal in his eyes.

“Thor is right,” Brunnhilde said. “Enough for today. There are too many events for one day: the chase, the escape, Ragnarok, and now you two... I think we all better disperse and rest, and even better sleep,” having heard a laugh from Dana, the Valkyrie turned to her friend before she could insert another poisonous phrase. “Don’t. We all will just silently disperse to our rooms and won't see each other until morning.”

“We are in outer space, sweetie, there is no concept of "morning",” the brown-haired woman could not resist commenting.

“Then until nine o'clock”

“According to what time zone?”

“According to the one to which this ship is tuned,” the Valkyrie answered and stood in front of the panel, pressing something. “So-o, now the clock shows twenty-two hours fifteen minutes and thirty-five ... thirty-six ... thirty-seven ...”

“We understood,” Loki stopped her counting.

For a while, silence reigned in the cockpit. That was the same kind of silence that often occurs in the classroom when the teacher asks a seemingly elementary question, everyone knows the answer to this question, but no one is in a hurry to raise a hand, and everyone sits with the look a-la: “There are a whole bunch of us here, somebody will surely answer.”

“Well,” Thor broke the silence. Three pairs of eyes followed his every movement. “Then, perhaps, I will go to my place. Um... good night or what?” he finished hesitantly and, turning around, leisurely headed for the exit.

“Me too. Gonna check the autopilot again and go to bed,” Brunnhilde supported him, looking at the panel. After making sure that everything was working properly, she hurried after Thor, unable to contain a sigh of relief. She hadn’t noticed how tense she was since the minute the Odinsons returned from the system unit. “Good night to everybody.”

Only Loki and Dana remained in the semi-darkness of the cockpit. None of them was in a hurry to take the first step towards the exit. Either it was another tacit competition, or none of them just wanted to turn their backs on the other. They just stood (thank God, this time in silence) and glared at each other. The trickster has always considered himself the champion of the gaze game, he even defeated a snake a couple of times, but this woman seemed to be able to make the statue blink.

_Well, at least, now it is clear that I will not be bored on the road_ , even in such an annoying situation, Loki managed to find an advantage for himself. Sooner or later, he would get bored. And even teasing Thor would have gotten boring after a while. Now, he has a new occupation ... _I wonder how long she will last?_

There were thoughts in Dana's head too, only they were more monotonous. For example: "How does he infuriate me ...", "I hate this bastard ...", "How I want to erase - with claws - this impudent grin from his face ...".

Understanding that a woman who had slept through a rather sound sleep, had more chances to stand here until the second Ragnarok than he, who had not been resting for a couple of days, Loki decided to give this bitch the opportunity to amuse her vanity with a small victory. Turning around, he silently went to his room, feeling the burning look of yellow eyes on his back. After walking a few meters, he heard the sound of a door closing. And nothing more.

_Well_ , trickster thought, _she wasn’t lying about walking quietly_.


	4. Power of kitchen attraction

Bruce woke up in early morning, if ‘morning’ is an applicable concept for space travelers at all. It was quiet because it was too early even for early morning, so nothing could happen. That was good. Less events – less stress, and in Dr. Banner’s case, less stress also meant less problems, not only for him, but for everybody else as well. The transformation into the Hulk may not have been as destructive as it used to be, but Bruce still liked to stay in _his_ mind. Besides, he has almost no spare clothes left...

  


Waking up inside the spaceship was unusual, as well as seeing stars, meteorites and other sights of outer space in the window. That is why Benner settled in a windowless room. And with the thickest walls (just in case). That is why Benner settled in a windowless room. And with the thickest walls (just in case). The realization that in his neighborhood there were several hundred almost gods and armed revolutionary aliens also did not contribute to stay calm, although after a good sleep the situation did not seem so out of the ordinary. A couple of days and all this will become normal. But now, dressing and pondering all the recent events, Bruce understood how much he missed his native and so beloved Earth. And Natasha. However, most of all, judging by the sounds coming from the stomach, he missed food.

  


The doctor’s room was next to one of the kitchens. After all, whatever comes up with you, some habits remain unchanged: getting into a new and unknown environment, a man, like any animal, will keep closer to food. It's not even so much a habit as an instinct. It is not for nothing that the kitchen is considered the capital of any apartment. It attracts people, dogs and cats, like ... like gravity attracts stones. And Dr. Benner was no exception to the rule.

  


The kitchen was small (by the standards of a huge spaceship), which was not particularly surprising, since it was in the pilot block - the smallest block after the system one, which is difficult to call a block, because it consists of one single room. As if by some unspoken rule, no one came here, except for their small company. The Asgardians split into small groups - family ones, most likely - and dispersed throughout the ship's territory, except for that part of it which was occupied by the two royals, the Valkyrie and Bruce, who was separated from the Hulk by one-two stressful situations. Maybe the pilot block was now associated with the royal palace among the Asgardians, the same one that once proudly towered over Asgard until it blew up with city.

  


Anyway, the less fuss, the better, Banner thought, while turning on the light in the small kitchen. It had a large refrigerator, and for those products that did not fit into it, there was a door to the refrigerator room adjacent to the kitchen. The kitchen utensils rested on multiply shelves and hooks, the table on the opposite side of the room was polished to a shine, eight chairs looked quite comfortable, but the stove and other equipment definitely needed an instruction manual, because there were a lot of buttons and no clues which button switch what.

_I see, no omelet then_ , Bruce thought, examining the row of buttons on the stove. There were no pictures on them, and the man was not going to use the same method Thor used when he dealt with earthly technologies - “Let's click here and see what happens”. Who knows, these alien things ... _Will have to cook something out of vegetables. If, of course, there are any vegetables here_.

  


Opening the refrigerator, Benner discovered that there was an abundance of vegetables, but whether they were edible ... No, he had no doubt that for someone these colorful products were definitely edible. But whether it possible for a person to eat it... You really cannot know without trying it. Nevertheless, if something goes wrong, the Hulk is unlikely to keep itself waiting long.

  


_Hm-m. what’s this?_ thought Bruce, twirling in his hands something between a peach and a beet. Thoughts about the Earth - and more specifically, the thoughts of Earthly food - filled his mind again. The stomach rumbled again. He didn't really care what it was, as long as it was edible. If "this" also has a tolerable taste, then consider you just hit the jackpot. _Well, you won't try, you won't know..._

  


Having laid out on the countertop a half-peach-half-beet, as well as something that looks like a yellow avocado, and something like lettuce leaves, only purple, Bruce found a cutting board and a knife and was about to start preparing a salad called ‘A-possibly-edible-mix-of-the-dumb-foods-that-looked-less-dumb-than-the-other-dumb-foods’, when he felt someone's gaze on his back. Banner turned... and nearly dropped the knife on his leg when he saw a woman in front of him.

  


_Oh, shi… Wow_ , he thought in shock, looking at the stranger. This was perhaps the most beautiful ... no, not quite so ... rather, the sexiest woman he had met in his life. The figure consisted entirely of seductive curves and roundness, thick chestnut hair shone gold in the bright light of the lamps, all the sins of the angels blazed in her eyes, and a smile promised a fall to the saints. Male saints for sure. At some point, Benner thought he was sleeping. Or raving in reality. _No, then I would have seen Natasha in both cases._

“Oh… Um…” the man was suddenly confused under the gaze of yellow eyes. Taking a couple of breaths, he pulled himself together. If it was at all possible next to such a woman. “I’m sorry, I didn’t expect to meet anyone here so early. You couldn't sleep too?”

  


“No. I just heard that someone opened the refrigerator,” answered the brown-haired woman in a pleasant deep voice. A cat, like a dog, can hear the sound of a refrigerator opening from the other end of the house (in this case, a ship). “You're Bruce,” there wasn’t even a smell of interrogative intonation here. “Brunnhilde told about you. I’m Dana, and taking into account the fact that you are, for now, one of the few who did not have time to negatively affect my nervous system, I will give you some cooking advice that I highly recommend using,” she pointed her finger at the multicolored pile. “Don’t. They may have the earthiest look, but they taste disgusting, especially that yellow avocado.”

  


The full meaning of her words did not immediately reach Banner. It took him a few seconds to completely get rid of the shock and re-pass the information through the brain. Only now it dawned on him that the woman... Dana, as she introduced herself, used the word "earthiest."

  


_She is not an Asgardian_ , Bruce understood immediately. There was not planet Earth for Asgardians, just Midgard. Only Thor and Loki used E-name, but even they never used the term "earthly" to refer to food, mainly because of the "earthly" products they knew only coffee. And this woman even knew what an avocado was! _And her clothes… These are jeans, aren’t these? And the top also seems to be quite earthy. And shoes. Could it be…_

“Are you from Earth?” there was no sense in asking whether she was human, because an ordinary person would hardly have been brought here. Appearance did not matter at all. There are about four hundred persons of human appearance here, and people among them can be counted on the fingers of one hand, even if during one of the labor lessons there was an accident and your instrument left you only one finger on this very hand.

  


“And do you know other planets where Emporio Armani jeans are sold?” Dana quirked an eyebrow.

  


“Um, no,” the doctor seemed not to care at all about her tone. Judging by her manner of conducting a conversation, this woman would have mocked even the president. However, no matter how she behaved, it could not overshadow the fact that she was from Earth. “You cannot imagine how happy I am to meet you.”

  


“So far, you are the only one who is even in the least happy about this.”

  


“How did you end up on this ship?”

  


“And why is everyone so interested in this question?” Dana addressed the kitchen ceiling. “Let’s just say I was looking for a place to sleep and found it here.” 

  


“And how did you end up on…” Bruce tried to remember the name of the planet on which he spent two years, but didn’t manage to. “Not on Earth, so to say?”

  


“Accidently,” she answered and lowered her gaze. “Are you gonna continue to stay with a knife in your hand? This is not the best communication tool. Not for this situation, at least.”

  


“What? Oh, sure,” he remembered why he had originally come to the kitchen. He put the knife down on the cutting board. “Sorry. May I ask another question?”

  


“As if you asked permission before…”

  


“Who are you?” Bruce asked, not paying attention to his interlocutor’s caustic manner of communication. When you struggle with stress, anger, and anger over the years, you learn to ignore a lot of things.

  


“I’ve already introduced myself. Weren’t you listening?”

  


“I mean, not your name. The species.”

  


“Oh, that…” Dana looked up at the ceiling again. “There can be a small problem. I… how to put it more accurately… do not belong to any one specific species.”

  


“You are a half-breed then?” he specified.

  


“Could say that.”

  


“And what kinds are mixed in you?” the doctor hesitated for a second. “Unless, of course, it's not a secret.”

  


“I see no reason to keep it a secret,” the brown-haired woman shrugged. “Do you know Bast?”

  


“Of course. Egyptian goddess of cats.”

  


“And also of a lot of other things,” the woman added. “Now, Bruce, I’m gonna tell you a story. Listen carefully, because you are unlikely to hear it from anyone else, and I am not one of those who like to repeat the same thing several times. So, once upon a time, there was ... hmm, why was? There was and still is the goddess Bastet. She has a sister who always hovers in the clouds, and a restless son who sucks milk from his mother along with nerve cells. And one day Bast gets bored, and she, using magic to turn her cat's head into a human one, goes to the human world to relax and rest. I will not go into the details of exactly how she relaxed and rested, I will only say that she returned not so thin, and a few months later a little girl appeared into the real world, though, the real world did not cause her delight, otherwise she would not have screamed like that upon arrival. They called this girl Dana, although, according to her brother, Pettybastard was a more suitable option for her,” Dana sighed wearily. “I hope you, unlike the others, have no problems with your head, and I don't need to explain who is who?”

  


“Thus, you are half-human, half-goddess?”

  


“Bingo! Got it on the first try, take a candy from the shelf. It in any case has a better taste than what you were going to make a salad from.”

  


As soon as Benner remembered the purpose of his arrival in the kitchen, his stomach rushed to remind him (and at the same time his new acquaintance) of its displeasure. He looked at the "vegetables" that he had been strongly advised not to consume, and hurried to put them back in the refrigerator. The man was again in a quandary. Guessing the meaning of the Chinese character was easier than guessing the origin of the food inside this refrigerator.

  


“There are fruits on the top two shelves,” Dana prompted, looking over his shoulder. “Almost all of them are quite tasty. Below are vegetables, it is better not to eat them raw, unless you want your feet to go numb from sitting in the toilet. Even lower - something similar to our dairy products, also good. Eggs and sauces on the side. In the boxes below there are semi-finished products and meat and fish.”

  


“Thank you,” said Bruce. “How long have you been on that planet?”

  


“Thirty years.”

  


“And how long have you lived at all?”

  


“Long.” Dana replied, heading for the alien analogue of an electric kettle.

  


“And if more specifically?”

  


“Very long.”

  


“As far as I understand, you won't tell me the exact number?” the doctor sighed.

  


“You understand it correctly.”

  


“Where did you live when you were on Earth?”

  


“In many places.”

  


“And what was your last place of residence?”

  


“A planet whose name you do not remember.”

  


“I mean, your last residence on Earth.”

  


“Seattle.”

  


“Nice city,” Benner was glad to talk about his home planet. “Did you have an apartment or a house?”

  


“A house,” she answered, putting something into her cup and then pouring boiling water over it. “And I still have it. When was the last time you were on Earth?”

  


“Two years ago,” the man poured the sliced fruit into a plate and headed to the table.

  


“It's relatively recent,” Dana muttered, joining the doctor at the table with a cup of, uh… a cup of something and some snack from the top cabinet. “Have people invented the tangerine purifier yet?”

  


“Um, I don’t think so.”

  


“Pity,” woman took a small sip. “And how did the fifth part of the Pirates of the Caribbean come out there? It seems like they promised it in 2017... However, you probably don't even remember. And what about Game of Thrones? Did Old Martin even have time to finish it before he pegged out? And how's the TV series? Did it smoothly slide down an incline or not?”

  


These were not at all the questions a man expected to hear from someone who has not been on Earth for thirty years. Both the pirate franchise and the film adaptation of A Song of Ice and Fire were released in the twenty-first century, while this woman, if mathematics was right (and for scientist mathematics is always right), left her home planet somewhere in the late eighties - early nineties... Bruce tried to put together a number of facts to come to a logical conclusion. He came. It remained to make sure that the conclusion was correct.

  


“Dana,” he began carefully, “What year was it when you left Earth?”

  


“Year 2015,” the woman answered, taking one more sip of the drink. “Why asking?”

  


“And you were on… not-Earth for thirty years?”

  


“Oh my, I really thought that at least someone on this ship knows how to perceive information the first time...” the brown-haired woman sighed mockingly. “Yes, I lived on a planet whose name you cannot remember for thirty years. This is ten times for three years, three times for ten years or thirty times for one year. Should I describe it on my fingers as well?”

  


“But it’s only 2018 on Earth now, if believing Thor’s words,” said Bruce, skillfully ignoring the sarcasm.

  


“And if _not_ believing that fair-haired bastard’s words?”

  


“There is no reason not to believe him. I remember exactly my last day on Earth: it was in 2016. Then I disappeared for, as it turned out, two years, so it all fits. Rather, all, except you.”

  


“Hmm,” Dana reacted, continuing to sip whatever was in her cup. “Interesting.”

  


“Maybe you were mistaken in...”

  


Dr. Banner had a complete set of brains and detailed instructions for their use, which he learned by the tooth: his nine diplomas and the very fact that he is still alive were rather convincing evidences of this. Therefore, when the gaze of the yellow eyes moved from the cup to him, the scientist quickly realized that it was time to close his mouth.

  


Perhaps this would not have happened if Bruce had more information about Dana, primarily about her character. The list is long, but if choosing three character traits that are best suited to describe her, then they will definitely be: shamelessness, bitchiness and self-confidence. The latter was so strong that it could bend iron. Dana was absolutely and unshakably confident in herself and never admitted she was wrong for: "How can you admit something that does not exist?" With losses, the situation is similar: according to this woman, defeat is something that can happen to anyone, but not to her.

  


  


“Out of the question,” she snapped. “I know exactly when I left the Earth and how many years have passed since that day.”

  


“But there is simply no other explanation,” the doctor tried to argue.

  


“More precisely, you mean that you do not see it?” Dana arched an eyebrow. “There is no mistake. I left Earth in 2015, that's a fact. I spent thirty years on that planet, that's also a fact. You left Earth in 2016, another fact. You have not been on Earth for two years, a fact as well.”

  


“Why is the wording of the second questions different?”

  


“Here it is”, she drawled, “Finally your brain began to work in the right direction. Do you understand what I'm getting at?”

  


“Not really, to be honest,” Benner admitted.

  


“How many years did you spend on that planet?”

  


“Um, two years,” he replied a little hesitantly.

  


“Is it though?” the brown-haired woman smiled lazily. “Can it be argued that the fact that you have been on the planet of the Grandmaster for two years is a fact?”

  


“Well, all this time I was a little out of my mind, so to say, and I don’t remember anything, but I haven’t been on Earth for two years, so therefore…” Bruce suddenly stopped. “Do you want to say that time does not flow there as it does on Earth?”

  


  


“You chose the right direction, the whole problem lies in time, but not in how fast it counts down, but in where to start counting,” Dana answered. “You came to the Grandmaster, one might say, along a trodden path, but I had to make my own path. You have already asked me how I got “not on Earth”.”

  


“You said it was by accident.”

  


“And it is true. Actually, I was planning to go to Madagascar to sunbathe on the sand, but traveling through hyperspace is such a complicated thing ... There are so many different spaces and times, and all of them are simultaneously separate units and a single system called hyperspace. I needed to find the right space and the right time, and they would lead me to the right place, but I took a different route. Another space and, as it turned out, another time: the past, instead of the present.” she looked down at the cup again and took another sip. “However, such blunders are in the order of things, especially when you do it in a hurry.”

  


“You… um, you can travel through time and space?” Benner looked at his interlocutor as if she had just grown a second head. Although no, if she had grown a second head, he would have been less surprised.

  


“Any cat can,” Dana answered. “How do you think they manage to escape from a closed box, basket and everything else where people shove them when going to the vet? It also happens that you forget the cat at a party or, say, at a gas station. You look for him all night, then you return home, and he is right there! The only difference is the level of skill. Normal cats can only move within our world. It means that they can accidentally wander to the moon, but not into a parallel world or, say, Vanaheim, unless they find a ready path.”

  


“So you can move to Earth right now?”

  


“In theory, yes, but in practice it's not that simple. It takes time and a lot of effort to make the path. This is a rather tedious task, poking around in time and space, and I try to use such travel only when necessary,” she resumeddrinking and biting a snack. “Fortunately, people have developed transport industry quite quickly and there is no shortage of vehicles.

  


“I see,” Bruce replied more or less honestly. The circle of his acquaintances continues to grow with strange personalities. “Why did you decide to return right now?”

  


“Because when I woke up, the ship was already in outer space, not in the Grandmaster's garage. That bastard, when yanking the ship, didn't bother to check to see if anyone else had taken it.”

  


“By bastard you, I understand, mean Loki?” Benner asked, just in case. Earlier, she used the same term in relation to Thor (and he guessed she did the same to many other living beings too), so clarification would not be superfluous.

  


“Yes.”

  


“You didn’t get along well with him and his brother?”

  


“I generally get along badly with those who are slow on the uptake.”

  


“I wouldn’t say they’re slow on the uptake…” Bruce said, but his natural honesty made him add: “Loki for sure.”

  


“That bastar-r-rd woke me up and didn’t get away, although I hinted ver-r-ry loudly to him. And then he gr-r-rabed me and took to another-r-r place like some kitten,” Dana growled. Banner could swear that some of her teeth were noticeably elongated and sharpened, and her fur… that is, her hair was slightly raised. After a while, everything returned to normal, more or less. “Would you like such an appeal?”

  


“I don’t think so,” he answered, mentally making a note to never again mention Loki in the presence of this woman. A little more, and a stressful situation would be provided for sure...

  


“That’s the point,” she muttered in response. Putting the cup on the table, she got up and went to the exit. “See you.”

  


“Where are you going?”

  


“Sleep.”

  


“But, it’s morning…”

  


“Exactly,” she snapped and slammed the door.

  


Bruce stared at the closed door for a while. Very... how to put it more accurately... peculiar woman. He just needed not to catch her eye when she is dissatisfied with something and to ran for dear life when Loki is nearby her. If the mere mention of his name is enough for Dana to turn into an angry fury, then what will happen when these two meet face to face?

  


The answer came to mind immediately.

  


“Nothing good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you like this work. If you do, please leave comments, if you do not - leave comments as well ))


	5. The power of first impressions

Sitting at the same table with his brother was unusual. What was even more unusual is sitting at the same table with brother, a Valkyrie and a man who, while in his green incarnation, once used you as a punch bag. The only thing that caused Loki positive emotions was the absence of one yellow-eyed person in the kitchen.

Bruce, as it turned out, got up before everyone else, had breakfast, and now he was just sitting with company, watching - the trickster had to blink a couple of times to realize that this was not a hallucination - Thor preparing breakfast on the stove, paying special attention to the buttons on this the stove itself. Brunnhilde, as it turned out, was a supporter of food that does not require special culinary skills. As for Loki... Well, magic may not create food out of thin air, but slicing and cooking - easily. It is also ten times faster than doing it manually. Therefore, they was only waiting for Thor.

Finally, after a few more minutes a frying pan joined cutting board, three knives, a couple of plates and some thing that was most likely intended for something that had not be done for a long time, and if it did, then without much enthusiasm - peeling some kind of vegetable, cutting something or stuffing someone - in the sink. Thor with a plate of hot um ... breakfast (at least he was sure it was breakfast) joined the others at the table.

"Well, bon appetit to everyone!" Thor exclaimed, full of positiveness, and began to eat.

The others followed him. Except for Banner, of course, who was just sitting at the table and thinking about something. Breakfast took place in silence, broken only by the tapping of cutlery. The ship was full of people (broadly speaking, of course), but there was no noise or fuss. Asgardians and aliens were not here. Not that anyone complained about such a course of affairs, it was just... It was a bit strange.

Silence has reached the point where it gets on the nerves worse than a pop-up ad in the middle of a video. Deciding not to wait for the tension to increase even more, Brunnhilde broke the silence and turned to Bruce.

"You know, yesterday, after you'd gone to sleep, something happened," she began. "Nothing serious, though. Otherwise, we would have certainly waken you up..."

"We have one more passenger," Loki interrupted. "Such is the nuisance."

"Is it Dana you're talking about?" Bruce specified.

"Haph you altheady meth?" Thor asked with his mouth full of food.

"Yes, recently. Gorgeous woman..."

The last phrase made everyone choke. Loki even dropped his glass from shock. There was a deathly silence for a while.

"Are you sure we're talking about the same pri... person?" asked the trickster. "For I meant one little bitchy fury with a sharp tongue."

The doctor took a little time to think about. Surprisingly, both his and Loki's descriptions fit perfectly to Dana.

"Yep, that was definitely her," Banner concluded. "I agree, her manner of communication may be a little.... ahem... sarcastic..."

"A little?!" Loki interrupted him. His face expressed an extreme degree of amazement.

"... but if not paying attention to it," the scientist went on, "she is a very pleasant woman."

"Bruce, are you sure you feel good?" Thor asked anxiously.

"We had a pretty good dialogue with her," he replied, as if in excuse. "Just because you two didn't get along with this woman doesn't mean she's... 'a little bitchy fury' as someone put it."

"With a bitchy part Loki guessed right, by the way," said the Valkyrie. "I tell you this as the one who loved with her for a while."

"You lived together?" Bruce was surprised. "For thirty years?"

"Of course not! Just ten," she answered. "I don't think I'd manage to survive thirty years..."

"I would hardly last for a years with her," muttered Thor.

"Do not lie to yourself, you would not last even for a few days," the trickster chuckled.

"And how long would you last?"

"The question should be rephrased: how long would _she_ last?"

"She would last until you surrender. Or die," Brunnhilde replied. "She has a lot of stubbornness. And patience, when needed, too. And mischievousness. And bitchiness..."

"And many other negative characteristics," Loki finished instead of her. "How two of you did manage to meet at all?"

"Be accident," she answered. "I return home from work, and there she is: sitting on the couch in one towel, with wet hair and doing a manicure. I then thought that I had entered the wrong apartment because of drunkenness, but no, the address was correct. The dialogue didn't work out for us and I tried to finish her off. I didn’t have time to swing, but she had already turned into a cat and ducked under the sofa. It didn't work to kill her."

"Such a shame." muttered the trickster.

"But in the morning I had such a hangover that I wished I had killed myself that evening,” Brunhilde continued, wincing at the memories. "I even forgot that there was someone else in my apartment besides me, until Dana brought me milk and sweets. My throat was so dry then that I didn't care who she was and what the hell she had forgotten in my apartment... and then she began to talk. Loud, distinctly, without hesitation and with all the details. This pest knew perfectly well how my head ache, and took advantage of it. She said she would get on my nerves until I let her live here or die. This is how our life together began. Of course, over the years, I tried to get rid of her more than once, but this bitch turned out to be very smart and fast, so it was impossible to aim, and when while sleeping, she seemed to be so sweet..."

"You look cute in your sleep too, though you snore," a familiar low voice came from the doorway.

Four heads immediately turned towards the sound. Dana stood with a barely perceptible grin, leaning against the doorframe. In her hands she was holding an armful of some tubes, jars and some other things, wrapped in a towel, and the woman herself was wrapped in a larger towel. As soon as this fact reached Bruce, he immediately turned away, clearing his throat in embarrassment, forcing Dana's grin to become wider. His embarrassment clearly amused her.

"You look just like the first time we met," Brunnhilde said. "Only now your hair is dry."

"I hope you are not gonna throw your sits at me this time?"

"Depends," the Valkyrie smiled. "What happened that you woke up of your own free will before noon?"

"I forgot to turn off the alarm on my phone," Dana answered still standing in the doorway. "I would go to work at this time. I wonder what the boss thinks about my absence now...."

"That he got very lucky," Loki replied.

"At the end of this week he will have to report to the highest instance, and all the reports are in my bag. I would not call it luck.” throwing a short victorious glance at the trickster, the woman turned to her friend: "Are you coming or not?"

"Coming where to?"

"Where do people go when dressed in a towel?"

"In your case, anywhere."

"That's true," Dana agreed.

"A couple of times in such an outfit you accompanied me at the bar," recalled the Valkyrie. "We then were poured all drinks for free. This, perhaps, was the only plus in living together with you."

"The only one?" the woman arched a brow. "Sweetie, meeting me was the best thing that has happened to you in the last several thousand years."

"Name at least one positive point, besides alcohol as a freebie?"

"At least the fact you know the meaning of the word 'freebie'. I also taught you how to dance properly, I showed you such a cool thing as a bra..."

"Yeah, you definitely get a plus for this one," Brunnhilde agreed.

"Well, the plus should go to Ermine Cadol, not me. It was her invention, after all," Dana corrected. "Let's go on. I listened to your drunken whining, helped you to get home a dozen times, after which I put you in bed like a little baby..."

"Oh, come on," the Valkyrie responded with displeasure, "It was only a couple of times."

"No, you just _remember_ only those couple of times. Seriously, until then I had no idea I had a maternal instinct. I even thought of filming you and putting videos online, as moms like to do these days..."

"Um, are we not bothering you?" Thor said.

"Yes, you are, but since I can throw you out into open space only in theory, I decided that it is much easier - and much healthier for my nervous system - to come to terms with the fact of your existence and just be patient until we get to Earth. And when we reach our point of destination, I will have a good mug of coffee with cognac and eat tons of chocolate with incredible pleasure, will go home to my dear Seattle, where I will resume my life full of fun, pleasure and debauchery, and will never see you again," the woman answered in one breath and smiled. Tigers, they say, also smile like that... "That was the answer to your question, goldilocks. Now stop staring at me like a schoolboy at his first nudity, prick food on a fork, put it in your mouth, close it, chew and swallow, and continue in the same spirit until your plate is empty. And if you interrupt me again, I will make it so that your hands will not be able to hold forks, or a knife, or anything else for a long time. Got it?" the thunder god silently nodded. Dana's smile widened. "Good boy. Now get started. And don't forget to wash the dishes later."

Loki watched the incident with his usual I-don't-care-about-anything face. Here it is, the power of psychology in all its glory. Thor was stronger, much stronger than Dana both physically and magically (although the woman had not yet demonstrated her magic in all its might). However, he is afraid of her, believes that she has superiority over him. And all why? Because the first time they met, she almost turned his hand into minced meat. And with Dr. Banner, she behaved less aggressively (at least, there were no scratches or bites on him), and now he considers her - Loki found it difficult to even think of it - a pleasant woman. So much for the power of first impressions. 

“And I also adjusted your sex life,” Dana continued, turning to the Valkyrie again. "Although something tells me that after I'd move to my own apartment, you brought all my efforts to nothing. By the way, when was the last time you had sex?"

There was a very eloquent cough from Benner's direction.

"Did I embarrass you, Bruce?" woman asked with a sly smile. The man blushed even more and stared at the stove. "Come on, we are all adult people here. In the broad sense of the word, of course."

“Dana, you’ll make anyone turn into poppy,” Brunnhilde said. She, though not so noticeable, also had a blush. "Enough to scoff already."

"But this is one of my favorite hobbies,” the woman said in a mock offended voice. “Plus,” she glanced at the scientist again, “he's so cute when he's embarrassed. Such a ducky. Just like you when I first brought you to the sex shop."

This time, all three coughed. Bruce, muttering something about some plans, hastened to leave the kitchen, skillfully avoiding the woman wrapped in a towel. Thor began to eat faster, eager to follow his friend's example, but at the same time not intending to disobey the instructions given to him earlier. It's a pity there were a lot of dishes...

“I’ve already managed to forget what a shameless woman you are,” the Valkyrie’s voice did not sound like displeasure. She seemed to be having fun watching it all, too.

“That's why I came, to remind you of this,” Dana answered. "Well, and to call you to the bathroom. I haven't bathed with anyone for so long, and you even more so."

"I prefer to bath alone."

"OK, then I should probably go call Bruce. It's been even longer since I last time bathed with a man..."

"You truly do not possess any shame, do you?"

"Not a single drop," Dana replied.

"It's easy to notice," Brunnhilde muttered. "Neither shame, nor conscience."

"Yep, that's what I am. You could have gotten used to it, you know, after thirty years of friendship..."

“Exactly,” the Valkyrie interrupted her friend. "Thirty years of friendship, ten years of living together, the first meeting in two years, and you didn't even hug me!"

The woman blinked in surprise and slightly tilted her head to one side.

"That's what you are unhappy about?"

"Yes."

"You could have said it earlier, what took you so long?" Dana shrugged her shoulders. "I don't read your thoughts. However, given your passion for drinking, I suppose it's for the best..."

"Was it so difficult to guess yourself?" there were notes of irritation in Brunnhilde's voice. "We are friends, we have not seen each other for two years, and when we finally met, you couldn't squeeze out a simple "Hello"."

"So, is it "hello" or a hug you want from me?"

"Stop playing around."

"I can't, it's naked into my DNA, along with sarcasm," she smiled slightly. "I could hug you right now, but as you can see, my hand are a bit busy at the moment. Therefore, I suggest this: you stop sulking at me, we go to the bathroom, until the water in it has completely cooled down, you take off all this ammunition, climb into the water, I hug you with my arms and legs and let you stay like that for at least an hour. You can even nip on my breasts, as you like to do when you are too lazy to reach for the pillow. What do you say sweetie?"

"I'll say I missed you madly," the Valkyrie answered and got up from the table. "Come on, otherwise the water will really cool down. And I do want to lie for a while with you hugging me."

"It's not necessary to limit yourself to hugs alone."

"Was that a hint?" playful notes appeared in Brunnhilde's voice. 

The friends went out into the corridor.

"What hint? Where?" the woman feigned surprise. "Sweetie, if during these two years without me you have managed to accumulate that much stress and tension, just tell me, and I will gladly have non-binding sex with you, there is no need to look for hints where there are not any."

"Such a libertine, you are," muttered embarrassed Valkyrie, pushing her friend in the side.

"I can't do anything about it."

"And have you tried?"

"Nope."

Soon the women's voices died down and silence fell again in the kitchen. Thor silently washed the dishes and waited for his face and ears to return to their normal color, while Loki stared at the ceiling with a thoughtful look.

"Well, it won't be boring for sure," thought the trickster. He already knew that Dana was a real bitch, that she was aggressive, rude and impudent. Now, a complete lack of shame has also reached this list. Even the most depraved women of easy virtue in Asgard (and there were far more of them than is commonly believed) seemed modest, decent maidens compared to this woman. "I wonder what else she will throw out?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still waiting for your comments. Please, tell me everything: what you like about this work, what you dislike, what piss you off, maybe? Feedback in any form is highly appreciated :)


	6. Hot&Cold

"Gods... it feels so good," Valkyrie almost moaned lying in hot aromatic water. "I don't know which one of your things you poured here, but the smell is divine."

"Pomegranate and mango, Ecolatier," Dana answered and threw her head back on the side of the bath. "I poured everything to the last drop."

"It's from Earth, isn't it?" there was a short 'mhm' in reply. "And you, while running away to Sakaar, dragged with you the foam for the bath?"

"Yep, three bottles, a liter each," woman answered. "As well as aromatic salts, oils, shower gels, shampoos, masks, conditioners, creams, cosmetics, shoes, clothes..."

"Yes-yes, understood," friend interrupted her. "Why the hell to carry so much junk with you?"

"To be ready in case something unpredictable happens."

"Anything can happen. If following to your logic, then you have to take almost everything with you in order to be ready for any possible situation!"

"That's exactly why I have a bag with compressed space," Dana replied. "I was waiting twenty years for those wizards to finish sewing it. The wait was worth it, though. No demolition for a thousand years. True, sometimes, in order to find something in it, you need to shake everything out."

"There would be no need for that if you didn't put unnecessary stuff inside, even though there is enough space for it," said the Valkyrie, settling her head more comfortably on her friend's chest. "For example, I carry with me only the most essential things."

"Your 'the most essential things' come down to the things you could stuff into your pockets. Well, and the sword."

"Exactly, and they are always with me, no matter what. Bag, on the other hand, can easily get lost."

"No way," Dana cut off. "I don't lose _my_ things. My bag will be with me till my death." 

"Whatever," Brunnhilde brushed aside, stroking the tanned legs that hugged her around the waist. “It's too good to argue here."

"Arguments are good too," woman answered, hugging her tighter. "Keep you in good shape, so to speak."

"Yes, but to argue about such trifles as bags and pockets..."

"Small arguments are better than bigger ones. If negativity is not poured out in small skirmishes, it will accumulate, accumulate and accumulate, like interest on a loan, and then everything will end with screams, hysteria, tears, broken dishes and broken furniture. And arguments about little things... they don't allow you to accumulate enough negative emotions."

"Are you saying that people have to constantly argue with one another in order to... avoid greater arguments?" the Valkyrie turned her head to her friend and raised eyebrows.

"Yep."

"Interesting theory."

"And most importantly - effective. Remember how many times you and I fought out of every little thing when we lived together."

"Almost every single day," Brunnhilde answered immediately. "In some cases, even several times at one day."

"And how many times have we come to stage of damaging property or injuring each other?"

"A lot of. Have you already forgotten how many alarm clocks we smashed against the wall?"

"It's not easy to forget that... Once you threw the alarm in my head. At least I was too sleepy and didn't have time to turn around, otherwise you could have broken my nose. Or my forehead."

"I didn't know you were in the room at that moment," the Valkyrie said as an apology.

"Whatever. How many times, excluding cases with alarm clocks, have our arguments grown into big ones with dire consequences?"

Well... we almost got into a fight a couple of times. Or rather several couples of times."

"Almost doesn't count either."

"Are you gonna ignore everything that somehow refutes your theory?"

“No,” Dana replied. - You still do not have a single argument to refute it, so I simply have nothing to ignore. You and I have never had a big fight."

"Which is surprising given your character."

"And your alcoholism."

“I had no money then for real alcoholism,” objected the Valkyrie. "It was just drunkenness."

That amount of alcohol that you drank for one your booze would be enough for two proms," Dana thought for a while, and then recovered. "Well, one prom, for sure."

"What is prom?"

"Another earthly tradition. Let's say, seeing off schoolchildren into adulthood. Although for the majority, adulthood is not very different from childhood: you sleep in your children's room, mom prepares food, the father sponsors and so on until the child turns twenty-five or thirty."

"And what, these 'send-offs' are necessarily accompanied by alcohol?" Brunnhilde asked. She was never particularly interested in Midgard and everything connected with it (as well as in other worlds, though; she was more than satisfied with the problems of Asgard), but Dana knew how to tell interestingly. Funny, for sure.

"Of course!" she exclaimed. "Prom without alcohol is like Internet without porn. Actually, it's very... kind of event. You stand in a suit with a red ribbon, just like a witness at some wedding, smile while being photographed, then listen to the head teacher's speech with the same smile, then you are photographed again - however, at this stage smile takes on signs of a person who suddenly realized he should have gone to the toilet before - then someone's speech again... So, after all his long and hardly tolerable shit, which for some reasons everyone calls the official part, all the Red Ribbon Team is shoved into the bus and taken away somewhere out of town, where team is awaited by all the alcohol sponsored by parents and plans about loosing virginity. Though, there are much more chances to loose teeth rather than virginity. And even if someone manages to 'rip a first flower', so to speak, in the morning this poor thing will hardly be able to remember anything except that tedious official part, because during the previous night the graduate - especially if it is a medalist, who has been plowing like a curse on this very medal for the last few years - gets so much booze in his or her body that his or her saliva can be used instead of kerosene."

"Was it the same at your prom?"

"I didn't have one. The tradition arrived in this world much later than me. But I attended many of these events. Drunken students are a fun sight, only it's much better to observe it from a distance."

Brunnhilde got lost in her thoughts for a moment. She had already forgotten how good it was to just spend time with Dana. This woman, who once felled on her head, was her best friend. Her only friend. Of course, Dana will never replace her other Valkyries, but she will be there if Brunnhilde needs her. It's not likely that she will get sympathy and words of support from her, but the Valkyrie can count on a bottle of intoxicating liquid and more or less attentive listener. Perhaps, if she is really, _really screwed up_ , Dana will even refrain from caustic comments.

"Don't tell me you did decide to fall asleep on me," her best friend's voice quickly brought Asgardian woman out of her thoughts. "I kinda wanted to wash my head, and my whole body as well. I highly recommend such procedures to you too. Your hair smells of smoke, sweat and a lot of other not the most pleasant things, and I'm not even talking about your clothes... Really, how did you manage to last these two years without me?"

"As if you are a role model of cleanliness," Brunnhilde replied. What was she just thinking there? Refraining from caustic comments? Forget it!

"Cats are clean animals. We respect hygiene."

"What a great hygiene, washing with saliva!"

"Still better than not washing at all."

"Can't believe I was just about to say how glad I am to have you here..." the Valkyrie sighed.

"I'm sure you are!" Dana grinned. "If it weren't for me, you wouldn't have anyone to talk to."

"If you haven't noticed, which I doubt, there are several hundred potential interlocutors on the ship."

"And to how many of them you would be ready to pour out your soul and complaints after getting drunk?"

"Two of them," Brunnhilde replied. "And if I get drunk enough, then I'm ready to pour out the soul even to my own reflection."

"O-o-okey," Dana drawled. "Would you also discuss sex with your reflection? However, to talk about sex, you must at least have sex. And your last time was... Remind me, what month? Wait, no, in your case, it is better to ask what year it was."

"Why does my sexual life bother you so much? Don't you have your own?"

"You know pretty well I do, and it's rather active."

"That's one way t put it," she murmured. "How are you not tired after so many years?"

"And how can you get tired of such a pleasure?"

"Wouldn't call sex that pleasurable thing..."

"You just can't choose partners right. Both, male and females. And you're too constrained and shy, although you are no longer a youngster."

"Well, I'm 'a little' embarrassed by the fact that I need to undress in front of a stranger."

"Then ask his name, not a big deal," Dana shrugged. Wearing clothes only in order not to stand out and not get cold, she was sincerely couldn't get what was the matter with undressing. Well, someone saw you naked, so what? Nudity is natural. We all come to this world without clothes and do not experience any shame. Cats, for instance, go naked all their lives. "Though, I don't understand what this will change, except that during the process there will be something to diversify the dialogue."

"However, you were in no hurry to turn into human and get dressed until we turned away yesterday."

"Yes, but it wasn't shame or embarrassment that was to blame, but the unwillingness to put on an erotic show for you. On top of it, a free one."

“You mean you won't be even slightly embarrassed to walk around the ship naked?” Brunnhilde asked with a half smile.

"I definitely won't, but I'm not that sure about others on the ship," she answered with the same face expression. "Especially about Bruce. Although... it would be interesting to see his reaction."

"Don't you dare do this."

"You suggested it yourself."

"I was hoping for another answer."

"If you are not ready for all the answers, it's better not to ask the question at all."

***

The rest of the day passed more or less calmly, mainly because everyone dined at different times and almost did not intersect with each other. Bruce never left his room without special need. Thor went to the part of the ship where there were more Asgardians, either to make sure that everything was all right, or to warn them to avoid one certain passenger if they wanted everything to continue to stay all right. However, this very passenger spent almost the whole day in the cockpit with the Valkyrie.

Loki's brain, having received more than enough sleep and rest, resumed its activity again. The trickster could not help thinking, and sometimes it irritated him: why can't he relax at least a little, like his brother? Why does his mind persist in drawing out the plots of all possible scenarios for the development of events when this is not required of it?

_Bloody habit of making plans_ , Loki answered his own question. When you do the same thing for a certain period of time, it becomes a habit. Trickster has done nothing for almost all his life but planning: first, small pranks in relation to his brother, then bigger dirty tricks, then the appropriation of the throne, the conquest of the Earth, jailbreak, and so on. And now there was nothing to plan. They all just floated through space to the planet, which should become their new home.

Loki realized with almost horror that, perhaps for the first time in his life, he had no idea what to do. They fly to Earth, and then what? Well, yes, then adaptation and everything else will begin, but after what? What should they do next? What should _he_ do?

_Live_ , the subconscious replied. It was a logical answer. Actually, that was exactly why they were now flying to Earth: to continue living a quiet life. Only for Loki, a quiet life ceased to exist for a long time. He was so accustomed to constantly being on the alert that waiting for a catch or a new problem had become a normal state for him. As paradoxical as it may sound, in order to live a calm life, Loki needed something to keep him in suspense, what Thor did. Otherwise, everything will end with the fact that he, on a subconscious level, will start looking for problems on his head. _Maybe, after all, we shouldn't have mend our relations?_

Having decided to leave further speculation on the topic for tomorrow, the trickster lay down on the bad and closed his eyes. A quiet life (if the current situation falls under this description) has advantages, and the first of them is regular sleep. It's amazing how well you sleep when you know that no one i going to try to kill you in your sleep.

Loki was about to fall asleep, but his brother seemed to manage to do it first. Sounds from the next room testified to this simple fact. Thor was snoring, and it was not the hasty snoring of a short-lived amateur, but the measured, impressive snoring of a professional who was going to sleep soundly all night. Put a jug or other utensil on the nightstand next to the snoring man, and it will begin to bounce.

During his life in Asgard, the god of lies never faced such a problem, mainly because his and his brother's rooms were on opposite ends of the palace. Here they were separated by only one wall, which, even being consisted of strong metal, could not stop the sounds emanating from the king of the Asgardians. Loki doubted that there was a single room in the whole pilot block where his brother's snoring would not be heard. Last night, he also snored, but then the trickster was so tired that he would have fallen asleep to the sound of meteorites hitting the ship, even if one of these meteorites broke through the window right in his room. But now the trickster's body was not so depleted as to be able to ignore what was happening in the next room.

_Hell no, I'm not going to sleep one day after three!_ Loki decided and created his copy. There were electronic locks on the doors to the private rooms, and he did not know his brother's password. But the illusion does not need a password - it can easily pass through the wall.

Despite the fact that neither the eyes nor anything else on the copy was real, Loki could see and hear everything the illusion was supposed to see and hear. He could even speak through it. The only thing he could not do in the "ethereal" guise was to touch something. Therefore, unfortunately, he will not be able to launch something into the snoring Thor. He could only hope that his brother had no hearing problems. Although, in this case, he should have woken up long ago from the noise he created himself.

"Thor," Loki said loudly, "wake up!"

In response there was only a loud drawn-out set of sounds, folding into a snoring.

"Thor!" Trickster tried again. "Thor, oaf, wake up!"

Again, no reaction. The clone came closer and leaned over to the sleeping man, about to scream right into his ear, when his attention was attracted by something located directly in this very ear and, apparently, not allowing the annoyed voice of the god of lies to send a signal to anything there was in his older brother's skull that was replacing the brain.

"THOR!!!" Loki decided to try his luck and realized his plan.

The snoring stopped. But not for long. Before the trickster had time to rejoice, the thunder god turned on his side and began to snore again.

_Maybe I should set the bloody lock on fire?_ alternative ideas began to appear in Loki's head. _Or try to knock down the door…_

Further reflections on possible solutions to the snoring problem were interrupted by some movement near this very door. The copy of the trickster turned its head immediately. First, a foot appeared from the door, and then there was one more person in the room. Loki immediately recognized Dana's silhouette.

_Can she create illusions too?_ The trickster was surprised. The woman turned to him and examined him from head to toe. He did the same. His gaze caught on the pot in her hands. This made Loki even more surprised. _Either she knows how to create illusions capable of touch, or somehow she knows how to walk through walls. Together with objects. I don't even know which of this is more surprising._

Dana, meanwhile, put the pot on the bedside table and approached the god of lies, not taking her eyes off him. As she approached him very close, she slightly sniffed, and then the corner of her lips crept up.

"That's what I thought - an illusion," she concluded, continuing to look at him. "Trickster, then."

"Walking through the walls, then," Loki said in the same manner. Now he had a chance to find out what this woman was capable of, except to scratch her tongue and turn into a four-limbed set of claws and teeth.

"Rather, through space. And through time, too."

"As far as I understand, we are here for one reason," the god of lies nodded toward the blond god continuing snoring. "What about your vaunted, sound sleep, which is not afraid of shots, screams and nothing else but bright light?"

"The strength of my sleep has nothing to do with it. I just hate snoring, it annoys me," Dana answered, crossing her arms under her chest. She looked as proud as you can get when you're wearing - Loki just now noticed - a pink robe. "But you, judging by your recent hysterical screams, are simply in despair. And there is no trace of Plan B, as I understand it?

"Oh, there certainly is plan B, but if I resort to it, then the annoying snoring will be replaced by the smell of burning electronics. For a creature with your sense of smell, this will probably be real torture. And there may be problems with airing on a spaceship, so the smell will not disappear for a long time..."

Trickster couldn't contain his victorious grin after seeing the woman for just a second, but curled up when she heard about the burning electronics. If even people and Aesirs perceive this smell quite badly, how terrible will feel Dana, whose smelling is fourteen times stronger than the human? At some point, the plan to take option B acquired an unprecedented appeal in Loki's eyes.

_No, let's leave it for later_ , he decided. _In case she has to get revenge somehow._

Loki had no doubt that this "somehow" will certainly come.

"So be it, I'll help you solve the problem of sleep," Dana said in a condescending voice. "But only because it coincides with my plans."

"Of course," replied the god of deception, rejoicing that he had found the weak spot of this woman.

"And by the way, I can tolerate unpleasant smells quite normally," she added, heading to the nightstand, where she left the pan. This lie only reinforced the jubilation of the trickster. "So don't think you can use it against me."

"I wasn't even thinking of it."

"That's good. Because if something happens after this conversation, I'll take your mind," she looked over his shoulder. "And trust me, you're not gonna like it at all."

And this truth was as clear as a pure water. Speaking of water... About three liters of cold liquid wagged (or more precisely, were splashed) on Thor's face, forcing him to jump out of bed and pull the earplugs out of his ears, looking around in panic. Loki, both the one lying on the bed in the next room and his illusion, could not help but laughed, watching his brother. Dana limited herself to a satisfied "hm" and a broad grin.

The younger brother's laughter brought Thor out of a state of panic-filled self-check "Where am I, who am I, who is he, who is she, what the hell is going on?"

"Loki!" the thunder god stared furiously at the laughing copy of the trickster. "What the hell are you d. . . . Oh, shit!"

Dana's face, which suddenly appeared before him, did not let him finish. Judging by the raised corners of her lips, his reaction clearly amused the woman. However, soon her face again acquired a dissatisfied expression.

"Tell me, my fair-haired sleeping beauty, what do you think the living beings, leading for the most part of the daytime lifestyle, want at eleven in the evening, huh?" the woman asked.

"Um... Sleep? " Thor answered somehow uncertainly.

"Bingo, guessed on the first try, what a good boy!" the woman patted the god's hair. "And now let's think about which way it sleeps better: under the silence, albeit relative, or under the loud snoring that can be heard throughout the block?"

"Under the silence."

"I think so too. So maybe you will finally stop making sounds from which perhaps the glass does not shake, and let everyone sleep?"

"Am I snoring?" Thor asked with genuine amazement.

"Imagine!" Loki and Dana answered in unison? which surprised both the thunder god and themselves.

"And what should I do?"

"Anything, as long as these sounds are no longer heard," the woman told him. "I'm not gonna go to the kitchen every night and then make a walkway through hyperspace just to pour a pot of water on you."

"I can't control it," Thor said. "I only found out about it today!

"Come on?" came Loki's voice. "Did Jane ever complain?"

"Shut up."

"In that case, since you can't control your own body, go to bed last," Dana said. "Or change rooms with Bruce. His one seems to have thicker walls."

"Yeah, sit like this for about half an hour until I fall asleep and then snore as much as you want," Loki said. "Good night, brother."

With these words, a copy of the trickster went into the air. Thor immediately turned his eyes to Dana, apparently hoping that she too would disappear now, but no, the woman, unfortunately, was still here.

"You can reduce the time to fifteen minutes, I fall asleep quickly enough, if only it was quiet," she said, heading to the exit of the room. Well, at least on this side of the door, there was no need to enter the code.

"I won't fall asleep till morning," muttered the thunder god under his breath. Three liters of ice water poured on you and your bed, discourage any desire to sleep.

"That's glorious," Dana left the room with a farewell glance at Thor.

_Maybe you I should really ask Bruce to change?_ " he thought, while taking on a dry T-shirt. _Or it's even better to change with Heimdall. He seems to be sleeping four floors below. If he sleeps at all..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still no comments... Is this work that bad?  
> If so, then please, as Loki once said: "Tell me!!!"


	7. Extractor fan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, leave comments....  
> They inspire me)

"Bruce."

"No."

"Please!"

"No, Thor, I'm not going to change rooms with you."

"Is it difficult for you, or what? You don't have any stuff, so what's the difference where you live?"

“This is the only bedroom in the block that has no windows! The cosmic space, of course, has its own beauty, but I am not attracted by the idea of observing this beauty asleep. So no, Thor. I'm sorry."

The men were alone in the kitchen. Bruce got up before anyone else, and Thor did not close his eyes all night at all. Both were preparing breakfast now, or at least trying to do it. Banner managed to bungle an alien analogue of an omelet, which may have had a color that was not quite suitable for this dish, but it smelled very much like one. The thunder god, in turn, put on the stove the largest frying pan he could dig up in a drawer with dishes, and beat some meat with a hammer. Lots of meat.

"Are you going to eat it all?" asked Bruce.

"On, no, that's for everyone. Food brings you closer, as Volstagg said,'' Thor replied, putting the first piece on a heated frying pan, and immediately bouncing back when there was a hiss and hot spray began to fly in all directions. "Do you want some?"

The doctor looked first at his omelet, which was green rather than yellow, and then at the raw chops. The pieces of meat had a rich, either dark purple or dark blue hue.

"No, I think I'll get by with an omelet."

"As you wish," Thor shrugged and went back to cooking, that is observing the meat from a safe distance. "What spices are usually added to meat?"

“I don’t even know whose meat it is, how do I know which seasoning suits it?"

"Meat is meat. How is it seasoned on Earth?"

"However you want," Bruce muttered. "Add salt and pepper, I think that will be enough."

Thor nodded and, covering the pan with a lid, went to the box of spices. There were no problems with the search for salt - it always, like the started pack of soda, exists in every kitchen, regardless of the world in which this very kitchen is located. But there were problems with pepper. Not seeing the necessary inscription on the packaging, Thor pulled them all out and tried to determine the right seasoning by smell, and if it didn’t work out, by taste. Bruce quickly realized that this was his chance to figure out spices without risking his own taste buds, and now he carefully watched what kind of grimace a friend's face gets and after what kind of seasoning.

There were a lot of spices on the ship. The God of Thunder managed to taste the contents of about sixty packages and would probably have tried the other forty, if not for the unforgettable aroma that appeared in the kitchen. Everyone who has ever decided to "quickly go to the Internet" in the process of cooking is familiar with it. It was the very smell that makes you immediately realize that your food has turned into black matter, and that the dishes will have to be soaked in the sink for at least a week, although the iron will obviously give up faster than the remains of the culinary masterpiece soldered to it.

Thor immediately ran to the stove and turned it off, and then made the main mistake - he opened the lid. The kitchen was immediately clouded with the unique aroma of burnt meat and smoke, forcing the men to cough. Bruce wanted to run to open the window, but he remembered that they were on a spaceship and that there were no windows in the kitchen, and even if there were, opening it would not be the best idea, unless you want not only the smell to disappear, but all the air.

There was a disgusting squeaky sound, followed by a siren. That was a fire alarm triggered. If it weren't so loud, one could hear a quiet “Oh shi-i...”, then crackling of fabric and “...-i-i-t!”, but already much louder and lower. This was the sign that there became one less person and one more hulk on the ship.

"Thor, what, for Odin's sake, is going on here?!" and this was the sign that there became one god more on the kitchen.

"Loki!" thunder god sounded happy. "How do I knock this thing out?"

"How am I supposed to know?!" exclaimed the trickster, covering his nose with the crook of his elbow. "What's a terrible smell?"

"Hulk," a familiar voice made Loki flinch, "not like loud sound. Hulk want silence!"

In search of the source of the sound, the green hypostasis of Banner began to twirl her head and hands, accidentally bumping the kitchen drawers and objects standing on them, most of which were washed yesterday's plates. The dishes were clearly not shockproof, and therefore easily shattered, adding new notes to the kitchen cacophony of noise.

"Hulk, you oaf, what are you doing?!" Thor tried to shout his way through all this mess.

"Silence!" he went on shouting, continuing to beat at random. The fragments of the lamp were attached to the fragments of the dishes. "Silence!"

"You make the most noise," Loki murmured under his nose, dodging the green hands and flying shards. Trickster also looked around looking for the source of the noise. "Where the hell is this damn alarm?"

He got the answer to his question quickly. It all stopped as soon as the Hulk's fist crashed into the wall above the stove, making a hole in it and in the built-in alarm panel. Now in the kitchen there was only a terrible mess, no less terrible smell, still dissatisfied Hulk, the Valkyrie in a combat suit and with a bird's nest on his head running to the noise, Loki and Thor, who was in mixed feelings.

It took a little more than a minute for everyone to get to a more or less normal state.

"What happened here?" asked Brunnhilde, examining what until recently was called a kitchen.

"And what's the horrible smell?" Loki repeated his question. At night he thought about plans for the future, but now he had doubts about the existence of this very future. If this goes on in such way, they will not reach not just the Earth, but also the nearest stopping point.

"I, um... decided to make breakfast. For everyone," Thor started. "But the meat got slightly burnt..."

"Slightly?" Loki arched his brow and looked down at the floor, where the frying pan and the coals lay. Well, it had much more in common with coals than with meat. "I wonder what is 'too burnt' for you then?"

"How did you manage to overlook like that?" asked the Valkyrie.

"Thor - stupid avenger," said the Hulk, who had finally cooled down.

“I never thought it would ever happen, but I agree with him,” Loki looked around the entire mayhem again. "And I just wanted to have a tea..."

"It's good this is not the only kitchen on the ship, because it's still four days to go before the nearest stop," Brungilda said, and suddenly frowned. "Where's Dana? With her hearing and smelling sense, she should have appeared long ago and began to swear over the noise and smell."

"Or to show Thor her claws again," added the trickster. He hoped the woman was aware that it was his older brother who caused all the noise, not him. Not that Loki was afraid of a promised revenge (well, maybe, just a bit, a tiny bit), but it entertained him to watch Thor getting timid in front of this woman, though he could easily break her neck.

"Thor - stupid avenger."

"Thanks, we already understood it," came the reply from 'stupid avenger'.

"I'm going to check how she is," the Valkyrie sighed and went to her friend's room, not forgetting to turn on the hood, which by some miracle managed to survive during the mayhem.

The door was locked, but that was expected. As well as the fact that no one responded to the knock. Brunnhilde started knocking more persistently, letting Dana understand that she would not go anywhere until she answered her. Ignore continued. Knocking too.

"Fuck off!" Dana finally broke down. Her voice became lower and growling.

"Dana, it's me," the Valkyrie ignored her remark. "Is everything all right?"

"Ever-r-rything is fucked up! Have you lost your-r-r sense of smell and hear-r-ring?!"

"All my senses are fine including smelling and hearing."

"Then don't ask stupid questions!"

There was silence for a while. You could even hear how the extractor fan works. Brunnhilde continued to stand in front of her friend's door, not knowing whether to continue to show her concern for her condition, or to leave and let the woman's rage cool down. And she has something to rage about: even here, far enough from the kitchen, the smell was quite noticeable, and the alarm went off all over the ship. This morning, absolutely everyone on board got out of hand. It will be necessary to tell Thor to calm the people...

"Is everything that bad?" the Valkyrie asked as gently as she could.

"Imagine that a house has fallen on your head," Dana's voice sounded less hostile, although the growling notes did not disappear. Brunnhilde was sure that instead of nails, her friend now had claws, and some of the teeth were noticeably elongated. Perhaps even the cat's ears and tail came out.

"I turned on the extractor fan, so the smell should subside soon."

"The smell wor-r-r-r-r-ries me the least now."

"Then, maybe, you will let me in?"

The Valkyrie did not hear footsteps outside the door, but soon there was a click and the door opened just enough to let her in, and immediately slammed shut as soon as the Asgardian woman was inside. As she suspected, her friend was in "combat" attire: hair on end, elongated and pointed fangs and long claws on her hands. There were no cat-like ears, but a long tail peeked out from under a silk pink robe. Now the tail went from side to side - a sure sign that its owner is extremely unhappy.

_Thor is fucked up_ , immediately flashed through Brunnhilde's head.

"Did you use perfumes?" asked the Valkyrie noticing nice aroma.

"I had to, because ther-r-re was not an air-r-r fr-r-reshener-r-r in my bag, and I have no intention tp br-r-reathe this fumes."

"Very pleasant smell."

" J'ador-r-rе Dior-r-r."

"You don’t recognize other products than earthly ones, do you?" Brunnhilde grinned, carefully sitting down beside her so as not to pinch her friend's tail. The last person who had the imprudence to do so had to transplant skin on his face and hands.

"The food and clothes ar-r-re the best ther-r-re," the woman shrugged. "In this, humanity has succeeded. And also in music and movies."

"I think you are just homesick."

"I'm at home ever-r-rywhere," Dana said. That wasn't a lie. She considered the whole world her big home, so she never had discomfort when moving from place to place, as it happens with cats. But she really had special feelings for the Earth. If the universe is her home, the Earth is her favorite room, and Seattle is her favorite chair. "Did you come her-r-re to talk?"

"I came to make sure you're all right," Brunnhilde replied.

"I br-r-reathed in the smell of bur-r-rnt meat, and then almost went deaf to hell fir-r-rst fr-r-rom that squeaker-r-r, and then fr-r-rom the howling of a sir-r-ren, br-r-roken dishes and the shout of those idiots," Dana growled. “My head is splitting as if a house fell on it, so I'm definitely not all r-r-right, fr-r-riend."

"Would you like a pill?"

"I hate medicine."

"Don't give me this bullshit, I saw you taking sleeping pills when we lived together."

"Sleeping pills ar-r-re not medicine, but the necessity," Dana answered and grinned, showing long sharp fangs. "Especially, if you live on Sakaar-r-r."

"And if you wirk the night shift."

"And if neighbor-r-rs have been r-r-renovating for-r-r two year-r-rs."

"Oh yeah," she drawled while remembering her life with Dana. She probably regretted her decision to settle with Valkyrie a month later, when the family floor above decided to make small changes to the interior. Apparently, they approached this issue very seriously, because repair work lasted more than two years, although the apartment was one-roomed. Brunnhilde, who worked during the day and slept at night when the repairs stopped, more tolerably survived this period, but Dana with her night work and daytime sleep... She could not kill their neighbors if she did not want to go to prison again (although the prison sometimes seemed to her the lesser of two evils, because there at least a little sleep was provided), so instead of hot milk before bed, the woman drank a cocktail of sleeping pills and whiskey (or any other alcohol that the Valkyrie did not have time to drink). "What could have been repaired in one-roomed apartment for so long?"

"Pr-r-robably, they couldn't hang the pictur-r-re neatly," the woman suggested. "Shouldn't you be in the cockpit?"

"I should, but the autopilot has never failed that far."

"And what if a meteor-r-rite hits us? It's your-r-r r-r-responsibility to keep the c-r-rew safe."

"That's exactly why I'm sitting here with you. In this state, you pose a much greater danger to the crew than some huge piece of stone flying through the windshield."

"Oh, don't wor-r-r-r-r-ry," said Dana. "The only per-r-rson I'm posing any thr-r-reat to r-r-right now is our-r-r blond-hair-r-red chef. But I'll talk to him a little later, when the smell of his culinar-r-ry master-r-rpiece subsides at least a little bit. I don't have enough per-r-rfume for-r-r the entir-r-re cor-r-r-r-r-ridor and kitchen."

***

To more or less rid the kitchen of the smell of burning, and at the same time to pile garbage on the floor, it took two hours, as well as two pairs of hands of the the perpetrators of the destruction. Well, and one viewer, who was drinking tea while the two were working, and enjoying the spectacle. It's not often you can see the king of Asgard and the Hulk cleaning up.  
  


"You could help, Loki," Thor said with displease, removing another pile of shards.

"I could, but I will not," answered the trickster, finishing his third cup of tea. "You started it, thus you're going to clean this up."

"Hulk not like cleaning," grumbled the avenger discontentedly, folding large pieces of kitchen furniture into a bag.

"If it wasn't for you, no cleaning would have been needed in the first place," Thor told him.

"Hulk want silence."

"However, you yelled the loudest," came a displeased female voice.

Dana stood in the doorway, arms folded under her chest. Hulk settled on her thoughtfully, apparently rummaging through Banner's memories, and Thor, in turn, swallowed nervously. Only Loki sat at the table on one of the three surviving chairs and smiled anticipatingly.

_Here comes the continuation of the entertainment program_ , thought the trickster, making himself comfortable. He remembered the same feeling when his parents scolded Thor in his presence. Nice to know it's not you who screwed up this time.

"Dana," Hulk remembered. "Gorgeous woman."

"Hmm," she responded with satisfaction. "So that's what you are. I've seen your fights a couple of times. Impressive."

"Hulk like smash," the avenger smiled contentedly.

"Yes, it's obvious," the woman looked around the kitchen. "Haven't you been told that breaking furniture is not good? Just like yelling at the back of your throat? Ah-ah-ah, bad boy. You made me very upset with your behavior. And Valkyrie, too."

The Hulk got sadder. The smile immediately came off his face, and his eyes stared at the floor.

"Hulk not want upset anyone. Hulk want it to be quiet."

"Yeah, Hulk want it very loudly," Dana mimicked him, but something (most likely a self-preservation instinct) made her limit himself to that. "What do you need to say to people you didn't want to upset but upset?"

"Sorry," replied the avenger, still looking at his feet.

"Apologies are accepted. Now promise that you won't upset me anymore."

"Hulk will not be like this anymore."

"Hulk will no longer smash the ship and yell loudly in the morning?"

"No."

"Good boy," Dana praised him. "Now, I think you should apologize to the Valkyrie. She's your friend and you made her nervous. It's not good to make your friends nervous."

"Hulk will not be like this anymore."

"Then tell her that. I'm sure our friend will be glad to hear this. She's in the cockpit now. Go."

Hulk put the trash bag back in place and walked out of the kitchen with the gods watching him in surprise. When Thor tried to calmly talk to him in the arena, he did with the thunder god the very same he once did with his brother in New York. And now he acted like a child. Only Natasha had been able to do this before. Maybe women have some kind of hidden power? Or is the Hulk just more tolerant of women than men?

"Um, I'm sorry I woke you up," Thor decided to follow his friend's example and apologize, hoping that would help him make his way out. "I promise I will not be like this anymore."

"Oh no, goldilocks, you won't get away from me that easy," Dana answered him and beckoned with her finger. "Come here."

Once again Thor felt his legs literally merge with the floor. Just like when they first met, when the woman threatened him with her claws.

"Come on, don't be so shy, Your Highness," the last two words were spoken with so much mockery that any swearing seemed more tempting than them. "I promise not to bite or scratch. I just want to check one thing."

Thunder god cautiously approached intimidating woman and stopped at a distance of a step, ready to run away at any moment. The thought that he was physically stronger did not even enter his head. Dana managed to achieve such power over him, which Loki with a mind stone could not even dream of.

"Bend over a little," she said. Thor obediently bent over to her, not quite understanding what was happening. The woman turned his head slightly and stared thoughtfully into his ear. "It's strange, I don't see anything..."

"And what did you expect to see there?" he asked.

"A through opening, because apparently, your head should be empty," Dana answered him, continuing to hold his ear. “But considering that I didn't manage to see the refrigerator through your ear, there is definitely something in your skull, although this“ something ”is clearly not a brain. Did you somehow manage to get on the Internet, or what? How the hell did you manage to overlook the meat like that? And why the hell did you not turn on the extractor fan as soon as you put the pan on the stove?"

"Did I have to turn it on?" Thor was surprised.

"You never cease to amaze me..." the woman muttered under her breath and dragged the King of Asgard by the ear to the refrigerator, on the door of which - the god had just noticed - was pasted a sticker with the inscription. Taking the man's head more comfortably, Dana banged his forehead on the door so that the sticker was right in front of his eyes... that is, right in front of his eye. "Can you read?"

"Yes."

"Read what's written."

"Please turn on the extractor fan while cooking," he read.

"Again."

"Please turn on the extractor fan while cooking."

"And again."

"Please turn on the extractor fan while cooking."

"Now tell me which of these six words you don't understand?" asked the woman, continuing to press Thor's forehead against the refrigerator door.

"Everything is understandable."

"Then delve into, delve into, delve into," Thor's forehead was profoundly hit three times on the refrigerator. "Did you get the massage?"

"Yes," the god replied.

"Which message exactly?" 

"To turn on the extractor fan while cooking."

"Good," Dana finally let go of his blond head and headed for the exit from the kitchen. "Now go back to cleaning. I hope you don't need lectures on this subject?"

"No," Thor muttered.

"Are you sure? You sure there is no need to explain the difference between a broom and a mop?"

"I'm sure," thunder god replied with a touch of irritation in his voice. He didn’t like the fact that he was being scolded like a small child. The same could not be said about Loki, who clearly enjoyed what was happening.

"Perfect."


	8. First Blood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I doubt it works, but anyway...   
> Please, leave comments. Feedbacks are truly important for me. Even negative... I would even say especially negative ones.

Just when Loki decided that the problem of his brother's snoring had been eliminated, then another surprise awaited him in the form (or rather, sound) of the Hulk. When he heard those sounds for the first time, he thought they had serious engine problems. But going out into the corridor and finding there the female component of their small team, the trickster quickly realized that everything was in order with the engine. But his chances of getting a good sleep have sunk into oblivion. The Hulk was snoring. If, of course, it could be called snoring. From his nasopharynx came sounds similar to which can be heard while being near the area of difficult hostilities, which are also taking place in the earthquake zone. And the avenger slept in a room with the thickest walls...

_I should have stayed on Sakaar_ , Loki thought. He had no intention of doing the same illusion trick as last night for the reason that he really loved to live. The information to the Hulk may have reached tight, but, rooted in the head, it did not come out of there. Now they were trying to root the fact that Loki has mended, but too little time has passed for it. On the other hand, the concept 'Loki - enemy; smash the enemies', which had taken root years earlier, was still sitting in a large sturdy skull. This meant that if the trickster planned to stay alive further, he needed to avoid anything that could somehow interfere or slow down the rooting of the concept of "Loki is not the enemy" in the head of the green avenger. _I don't think he'd like it if I started yelling in his ear. Although, it is not a fact that he will hear..._

Loki looked at Dana with hidden hope. She caught his eye, frowned, crossed her arms under her chest and turned away. She didn't like the noise either, even more than everyone else, with her keen hearing. However, even she will not risk waking the Hulk. Hell knows how he will behave suddenly awoken. Dana's body, maybe, was stronger than a human one, but it was inferior to the body of an Asgardian, and if even the Asgardians were having a hard time with this green brute, then fuck this shit.. She loved to sleep, but the prospect of falling asleep forever did not please her very much, just like the prospect of lying with multiple fractures.

_I really thought that nothing would irritate me more than this trickster_ , thought the brown-haired woman, continuing to listen to the duet “Problems with the nasopharynx” (Thor, unlike the others, did not experience any inconvenience and snored the Hulk from his room). _And from him so far the least problems._

Now two pairs of eyes stared at Brunnhilde. She stared at them with a look like 'What can I do?'

"Dana," the Valkyrie started, "is there any chance that there are some slipping pills somewhere in your bag?"

"Do you think I would stand here with you two if there were any?" she replied with irritation. 

"And what about the first-aid post?" asked Loki.

"Only headache pills, bandages and syringes," Brunnhilde said.

"Can't you conjure up some soundproof barrier?"

"Do you think I would stand here with you two if I could?" Loki mimicked the woman.

"Huh," the woman chuckled and turned away again. "And you call yourself a God."

"You'd better keep quiet, bitch. There is already enough noise without your help."

"And from all the ships you just had to choose the one I was sleeping in... Crying me and my sweet sleep."

"You never cry," the Valkyrie corrected her.

"It was a figurative expression."

"So, you constantly tell everyone to express themselves more precisely, and you yourself use figurative expressions?"

"There are general laws, and there are special cases," the woman shrugged her shoulders.

"And what does it mean?"

"It means that when she uses words like 'everyone' and 'no one', she does not apply them to herself,” Loki answered for the woman. "Very comfortable life position."

"Still better that the position of the wronged child."

"Who did you call the wronged child?" the trickster started getting angry.

Oh no. Gods, please, not this shit... thought Brunnhilde, struggling to contain herself so as not to slam herself on the forehead.

"The one who caused the pogrom in New York,” Dana replied and continued in a venomous voice. "Didn't you have enough time to play war in childhood?"

"Wow, you care about something but yourself," Loki said in tune with her, stretching his lips into a grin. “Although I don’t remember seeing you on the Rescue Team."

"Probably because I wasn't there. To your great luck, I don't care about NY or any other city I don't love in, because if you had chosen my Seattle as your playground, I would've hunt you down, rip your head off and used it as a candy-vase for Halloween."

“You’d be dead before you could even touch me with a finger,” the trickster answered her in a smug voice. "Although no, perhaps not dead, but completely subordinated to my will. I’m sure I would have come up with many ideas of what to make you do or what to do with you..."

"Keep dreaming, that's what you once said?" Dana chuckled.

"Dreaming is about something unrealizable, but my plans are quite feasible," God mimicked her, "that's what you once said?"

"As far as I know, without the wonder-scepter your plans are certain to remain a dream. Though, I doubt that even with its help you would have been able to influence me, you would have to get close enough in order to try this."

"Do you think I would have failed?" Loki raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Think?" the woman looked at him with a challenge. "I know for sure. I would have rip your throat open before you touched me with your magic wand."

"Have that much confidence in yourself?"

"You have no idea," her voice became lower and growling.

_Things are going south_ , the Valkyrie immediately became alert and prepared, judging by the changes in her friend's voice, to break up the fight. _Anyway, when they grapple with each other was only a matter of time. It remains only to decide who will have to be dragged away from whom._

She was not allowed to think about the last question for a long time. Dana, already with an improved set of claws and teeth, pounced on Loki, intending to grab him by the throat. Fortunately, the trickster's reaction was fine, and he managed to block the blow with one hand, and tried to stab the woman in the stomach with another, and he would have succeeded if she were not such a nimble. Twisting, the brown-haired woman kicked him on the ribs, almost knocking the opponent to the ground, but he managed to hit her with his elbow on the shin, then grabbed her knee, not allowing Dana to regain her second footing.

For a moment they were both numb from the contrast of temperatures. Loki's body temperature was about five degrees lower than that of an ordinary person, while Dana's normal was thirty-nine and five. Therefore, the sensations at the moment of the skin to the skin touch for these two were something like this: Loki felt as if he had grabbed an iron spoon that had been lying in boiling water for several minutes, and Dana felt as if a package of ice cream was put on her leg.

As soon as the moment of numbness passed, Loki's free hand with a dagger clutched in it darted to the woman's throat, but was immediately caught. And then the trickster felt in full measure what Thor once felt on himself. Ten long, sharp claws slammed into his hand, making the god hiss in pain. Until Dana had time to rip his forearm to shreds, Loki let go of her leg for a second, but only in order to materialize in his hand the dagger again and stabbed it into her thigh. This time it was Dana's turn to hiss. If she lets go of his hand, the first dagger will reach her throat, and if not, then the trickster can turn an ordinary stub into a deep long scratch. However, as soon as he moves the dagger in her leg, she will immediately move her claws in his hand.

Hell knows how long they would have continued to stand like this, bleeding, had it not been for the Valkyrie who cast her voice, deciding that was enough for today.

"I think you've played enough already,” she said calmly. "Let go of each other."

No one even looked at her. Opponents continued to incinerate each other with their eyes, oblivious to the pain of the wounds and the blood dripping on the floor.

" Dana, stop being stubborn, remove your claws," continued Brunnhilde. “Loki, take the dagger away."

"He fir-r-rst,” the brown-haired woman responded immediately, without breaking eye contact with the trickster.

"Hell, no," he answered. "Ladies first."

"You're both bleeding," the Valkyrie reminded them.

"Per-r-rfect," Dana growled. "I'll just wait until he faints or dies fr-r-rom blood loss."

"Don't croak yourself while waiting."

"Enough. I'm tired of you. Both." the Valkyrie's voice became louder and more irritated. "I count to three, and on the count of three you simultaneously let go of each other. If anyone tries to throw something out, I will stop him. Or her. Ready?" and without waiting for an answer, she began counting: "One ... Two ... Three."

At first, nothing happened. Dana and Loki continued to stare at each other half with discontent, half with incredulity. Then the trickster felt a slow movement of the claws in his forearm, not to the side to rinse his hand, but outward. He began to pull the dagger out of the woman's leg just as slowly. Both quietly hissed and sometimes frowned in pain, but stubbornly continued to stare into each other's eyes. The Valkyrie could swear the two didn't even blink.

"That's right, well done,” she said calmly, but she herself was ready to separate these two, if anything happens. "And now take a step back... Yes, like this... And another little step... And more... Well don..."

"Enough already," the trickster interrupted her. "We're not children."

"And your behavior says otherwise," the Valkyrie replied.

"He was the fir-r-rst to star-r-rt," Dana immediately turned the spotlight on him, transferring her weight to her healthy leg.

"Me?! It's you who can't keep the mouth shut."

"Look who's talking."

_I agree, they are not children_ , Brunnhilde thought, listening to their bickering. _They are worse. They are like a couple of teenagers: impulsive, cocky and problematic. Just give them the opportunity to get into a skirmish, and they will come up with a reason themselves. And how did the discontent with snoring turn into debriefing?_

"Since you are so annoyed by each other's company," the Valkyrie decided to interrupt the swearing couple, "why don't you quickly disperse to your rooms?"

"Maybe you’ll also punish us for bad behavior, Mommy?” it was pronounced with so much poison that Brunnhilde had an obsessive desire to really do it. However, it is unlikely that Dana would like it, and she, as a rule, shows her discontent quite clearly.

"Indeed, it won't hurt,” Loki replied in tune with the woman. "Quite the opposite, actually. It will benefit her."

"You too, by the way, for that matter,” said the Valkyrie. The trickster, perhaps, behaved more calmly than the feline demigod, but also sometimes caused a desire to crack him on the head with something heavy. "The proposal is the same as on the first day of our acquaintance: we silently disperse to the rooms and do not see each other until morning. Deal?"

Just like last time, there was a tense silence. Loki glared at Dana with displeasure, Dana glared at him in response, and Brunnhilde's gaze darted from side to side, like a cheerleader at a ping-pong match.

"I would wish you good night, friend,” Dana was the first to break the silence this time, “but, as you can hear, we will not see a sleep. Unless some higher power will send us temporary deafness in both ears. Until that happens, I’ll go and see if there’s any sex shop stuff in my bag... Wanna join me?"

"In searches or in what follows?" clarified Brunnhilde, sighing with relief to herself. The growling notes in her friend's voice disappeared, which means she calmed down. More or less.

"Do I have to choose?" the woman asked with a playful grin.

"Maybe, some other time, Dana,” the Valkyrie replied. “You'd better start with healing first, and only then with debauchery."

"Can be combined. I had a nurse's suit somewhere... Or was it a doctor's one?"

"Dana."

"Most likely, there are both of them somewhere," the brown-haired woman waved. "I'll need to have a good look in the depths of the bag, there is so much that can be found..."

"Dana," Brunnhilde interrupted her. "Go and treat the wound," she turned to the trickster. "You too."

Loki did not answer, just silently returned to his bedroom, locking the door after himself. The scratches, or rather the stubs from the claws, were deep and bled quite a lot. Thor was lucky that Dana was in a cat's guise that time, otherwise he could have said goodbye to his hand: it's one thing when your hand scratched up and down, but with little half-centimeter claws (however, sharp fangs also took part), and quite another - when ten five-centimeter claws stick into your flesh.

_She could've easily turned my hand into minced meat_ , the thought flashed through Loki's head as he rolled up his sleeve and began to examine the damage. If Dana had thrust them a little deeper, the claws would have reached the bone. _Let this woman reach your throat - and you can say goodbye to your life. If I ever have to fight her in earnest, the first step is to immobilize her arms_.

Having processed and bandaged his forearm, the trickster lay down on the bed and closed his eyes. He didn't even hope to fall asleep - not with the snoring duo of the avengers, no - he just lay there with his eyes closed and thought as always. In his head, as luck would have it, stuck the image of Dana. The trickster could see her now so clearly, as if he were looking at a photo: raised dark hair, a displeased swarthy face and yellow eyes fulfilled with anger, burning a hole in him. As much as this woman irritated him, he could not help but admit that there was... some kind of wild beauty in her, or something. Something that is both attractive and repulsive. Like a predatory animal: many predators have charm and attract the eye with their beauty and grace, but at the same time make it clear that it is better not to approach them, unless, of course, you want to become a snack.

Loki shook his head, trying to shake out the thoughts of this bitchy pest. Thing were taking wring direction... Her face flashed before his eyes again, and his good hand suddenly felt warm. He remembered the sensation of her hot skin under his palm as he grabbed her leg. Goosebumps spread from the tips of his fingers all over his body. Nice feeling. Now Loki was most interested in just one thing...

_Why the Hell am I thinking about it?!_ he immediately turned his gaze to the injured hand. Little by little, pleasant sensations began to be replaced by a socking pain, and Dana's image acquired more repulsive traits than attractive ones. Now she again did not evoke anything in God except irritation and the desire to properly strangle her. The trickster chuckled contentedly. _That's better…_


	9. Damn Bluin

The planet that had to become their first stop was beautiful, as were the surrounding clusters of stars and nebulae of all shades of blue. And to show all this beauty to her friend, the Valkyrie did not even have to wake her up: Dana, like Brunnhilde and Loki, did not close her eyes for the fourth night in a row. Even here, in the cockpit with the doors closed and the buzzing power supply unit, the next hit of the group "Problems with the nasopharynx" was heard loudly and clearly.

Although, the Valkyrie could not help but admit that these regular night concerts had one plus: lack of sleep exhausted Loki and Dana enough that these two limited themselves with only verbal skirmishes, or completely ignored each other, just like they were doing now, silently standing on both hands from her and watching the slowly spinning silver-blue planet.

"What planet is this?" asked the trickster in plain voice and the very same plain face. If only he could have a good sleep...

"Bluin," answered Brunnhilde wearily. If only she could get drunk and pass out... "The planet of blue mountains and blue forests."

"And also snow resorts and building materials," Dana added. If only someone would shoot her with a tranquilizer... "Where are we going to land? Somewhere cold or somewhere very cold?"

"Somewhere I am familiar with environment."

"Uinbjerg? You've been there only once, and it was two hundred years ago, according to your drunken stories."

"It's still one time more that any of you on this ship have," the Valkyrie said. "It's great there: a lot of nightclubs, all sorts of eateries and taverns."

"Who would have doubted," Loki commented. "What do we need besides fuel and food?"

"New kitchen," Brunnhilde said.

"And also earplugs and slipping pills," Dana added. "And something to wash them down with."

"I suggest strong beer. So string it's called whiskey."

"Do they accept Sakaar's currency, or should I use a bit of tech-magic over the Grandmaster's account?"

"Sakaar is an intergalactic dump! Of course they do," Valkyrie said, and then thought. The Grandmaster used this ship for long trips in large companies, so his account always has a big sum, she did not doubt, and did not doubt that the password from this very account remained unchanged. "Although... You don't know what alien currency can be translated into Earth's one?"

"Legally - none. The Earth, to put it mildly, is not very open for interplanetary relations," the brown-haired woman squinted her eyes towards Loki, "which is not surprising. But a little illegal activity and skill can achieve amazing results."

"So you can transfer some of the Sakaar's money to the earthly one?"

"Of course, I did somehow manage to do this trick the other way around!" catching the surprised look of her friend, Dana rolled her eyes. "Where do you think I got enough money to buy a huge apartment in the center?"

"Hm, I don't know..." the Valkyrie said mockingly. "Oh, wait! Maybe, job?"

"We both know I wasn't paid that much. In general, there will be no problems with the translation, but I need an adapter, or rather several, to charge my equipment from these damn Sakaar's sockets. I will need access to my earthly bank accounts for this procedure. So until we get to the electronics store, there is nothing I can do."

"Can you create Sakaarian accounts?" Brunhilda asked.

"For the Asgardians?" she nodded. "I can, but it will take a long time. There are several hundred of them, damn it!"

"Five and a half, to be precise," Loki corrected her. "That's not counting the revolutionaries."

"I understand, Dana, but it will be much easier if everyone buys everything they need by themselves, than if only one person is responsible for the purchases."

"And? That's not my problem. I don't mind helping with the earthly account, it's not such a pain-in-the-ass task, and you really cannot do without it upon arrival, but to loom with half a thousand bank accounts for people I do not even know... I have no intention to do it, no matter how you ask to. Altruism has never been my strong side."

"What if it's less than half a thousand?" Brunnhilde suggested. "If one account for one family?"

"Unless you have very large families, and half a thousand will be reduced to ten."

"So you suggest that I go to the store and back until I buy everything needed for more than five hundred people?"

"You? Why it should be you? The Asgardians have their king, don't they? Let him satisfy his people's needs."

"I'm serious, Dana."

"An so am I, sweetie," seeing that the Valkyrie continues to look at her with displeasure, the woman sighed. "Do they have terminals only with a scanner or with a keyboard too on Bluin?"

"With everything and more."

"Then I propose this way: you and I use our e-wallets, and let the rest write down the number and password of the account of this ship. The paying process, of course, will be slowed down, but I think they will tolerate it. After all, they manage to tolerate their royal family..."

Silence reigned... Though no, the last few days silence was something that can be only dreamed about here... No one was talking, so it would be more correct to say. Brunhilde scrolled in her head the rules for flying to other planets and what to do when landing. A few more hours and the ship will enter the atmosphere. The Valkyrie reminded herself to warn the crew some time in advance to grab onto something that firmly nailed to the wall or floor. It's gonna to shake. And she will need to turn on the cooling panels to slightly reduce the temporal effect on the ship while going through atmosphere. And also do not forget to change the flight mode in time when they are at the altitude of the flight of domestic planetary flights. And don't forget to request a boarding clearance...

_But first of all, I need to turn on the navigator in order to find this Uinbjerg, and some shuttle stop as well_ , Brunnhilde thought. She has been to Bluin only once and only visited one city-state, but she spent enough time there to learn the basic facts about this planet. Bluin was a large blue ball slowly circling around a silvery star, with a population of only three billion. Of course, due to regular tourists, exchange students or business travelers, this number increases from time to time, but still the number of souls remains rather small for such a large area. Settlements made up only a tenth of the planet, while the rest of the area was occupied by MMDB - that is, miles and miles of damned Bluin. Its useful to note, that these very MMDBs were completely covered with dense blue forests, in which games such as "try to run away so that you do not get eaten" and "make it home before you turn into an icicle" were still played, and, of course, mountain slopes (although in Asgard slopes of this steepness were usually called walls). And it was also cold there, like in Jotunheim. However, this planet was famous not only for its resorts, but also for incredibly high quality goods, especially technology and warm clothing. _However, this is not surprising: the quality, especially of heaters, transport, and especially warm clothes, is determined not so much by the desire to get a prestigious place on the market, but by the need to live here._

"I'm going to go rummaging through my bag looking for the right clothes," said Dana, who had enough of admiring the blue beauties, and headed to the exit. "Warn us when we go through the atmosphere."

"Yeah."

***

Loki gazed with some displeasure at the landscape below the ship. Snow, ice, steep slopes and no signs of civilization: the same Jotunheim, only with tall blue pines (or what are these trees called there?). And of all possible planets, why had it to be this one?

"You looke tired, brother," Thor, awakened not so much by the Valkyrie's warning about the entry into the atmosphere, as by the shaking that began during this very entry, decided to keep the trickster company in contemplation of the new terrain. "Not enough sleep?"

The speed with which Loki turned his head could send any slow motion into the deepest shock. Having reached the needed position, the trickster gave his brother a look capable of keeping milk fresh for a month.

"No," he replied in a voice that, by lowering his degree even a little bit, could have helped Thor to fully experience on himself what Steve Rogers felt seventy years ago.

Loki sincerely hoped it would eventually come to his brother that he was not in the mood to maintain a small talk, and that he would finally be left alone for a little while, but the thunder-god whether belonged to the very type of people by whom even the gun pointed to the forehead was perceived as a very subtle hint, whether he simply decided not to pay attention to the desire of the trickster to stay in quiet, even relative one.

"Beautiful planet, isn't it?" continued Thor, without diminishing a single ounce of enthusiasm.

"Cold and deserted,” Loki replied with restraint, continuing to stare into the windshield.

"Well, I can't agree with the deserted part... There are plenty of trees here."

"That's not what I meant."

"Oh, so you meant people," Thor guessed. "Then yes. Doe not look like very populated place."

"Did you come here to talk about this?" the trickster did not sound happy (nor did he looked that way).

"I have already forgotten just how irritable you are."

"In that case, it's my pleasure to remind you of that," Loki said in a venomous voice. "Just tell me why you came."

"You've been kind of weird lately,” Thor said with undisguised concern.

"I've always been a little weird, haven't I?"

"Yes, but now you're… even weirder than usual. Are you alright?"

"And why would I be not alright?" the trickster answered with a question.

"Is it because we are going to Earth?" thunder-god continued asking. "Does it bother you that Banner is still in the form of the Hulk? Or does it have anything to do with Dana?"

"And how did _that_ come to your head?" Loki was indignant. He could understand the first two assumptions, for them Thor did have some reason, but the last one...

"Then what's wrong?"

Loki could hardly stop himself from rolling his eyes. Just where did his half-brother get all that stubbornness from? A second question immediately arose in his head: what should he answer? It's not that the trickster wants to answer anything at all, but then Thor won't let go of him, and it won't be easy to avoid him in a confined space, so he needed to say something. Definitely not the truth. Loki won't say that he suffers from his own thinking, which, thanks to the night cacophonies, worked tirelessly for days on end, will he? Also, he was not going to say that he was frightened by the unknown of what would happen after their arrival on Earth. And even more so, he was not going to admit that one certain yellow-eyed person also takes an active part in his thoughts, and much more often than she should have. The latter, by the way, worried the trickster the most.

"I am fine, Thor," he told his brother. "I just haven't been able to get enough sleep lately."

"Really? Why?" thunder-god asked with genuine surprise in his voice.

"Oh, I don't know..." the trickster stared at the ceiling with a thoughtful look. "Maybe it has something to do with the fact that I can not fall asleep because of your "musical accompaniment" with the Hulk?"

"Come on, it cannot bother you that much. If you really want to sleep, you can fall asleep even to the sound of a jet engine."

"Of course," said the Valkyrie, sitting in the pilot's seat. "There will be less noise from the jet engine. By the way, where's the big guy?"

"He's having breakfast," Thor replied.

"More precisely, destroying the remnants of provisions."

_Just how does this woman manage to move around so quietly?_ Loki thought, turning towards Dana, who appeared in the cockpit. The search for clothes was obviously crowned with success, for the familiar pink robe was replaced by familiar jeans, a beige tight turtleneck and suede boots. _Especially, while wearing these heels?_

"It's time to hide food from him, otherwise we'll starve to death," the brown-haired woman went to her friend and leaned her hip against the dashboard. "Or at least to return him to the human guise with a moderate appetite."

"If only it were that simple,” the trickster muttered under his breath. More than anyone on this ship, he desired the transformation of the green avenger into a safe avenger. Although, the "safe" Banner is the same Hulk, just conspiratorial for the time being (that is, until the first stressful situation).

"Are you going to walk around Bluin in this?" Brunhilde asked, looking at Dana from head to toe. Her clothes could be called warm only symbolically.

"Let's start with the fact that I'm not going to walk around Bluin - only around Uinbjerg, and maybe around its outskirts, if there is something to see. Or someone," Dana added with a sly smile, forcing the Valkyrie to roll her eyes. "Anyway, my choice is not so hot: these jeans, as I found out recently, are my only pants. I rummaged in my bag for several hours, and from what I managed to find there, this - she ran her hands over her body - is the most appropriate outfit for the occasion."

"I’m more than sure you have more clothes than there are stars in that galaxy.”

"Yes, and most of them are gorgeous evening dresses and no less gorgeous lecherous outfits, as well as a wide variety of nighties and lingerie. Maybe I do have a few coats, sportswear, or at least office suits with me, but if so, then I haven't gotten to them yet. Therefore, sweetie, either this or what I listed earlier."

"You will freeze," Brunhilde said without giving up her positions. 

"No, I won't."

"Yes, you will."

"No."

"Yes." 

"Wanna bet?"

"It's as cold there as in Jotunheim, if not worse,” the Valkyrie crossed her arms over her chest. "Have you ever been there?"

"Perhaps," the woman shrugged. "It's hard to know the name of the place you got to, if there's no "Welcome to..." sign, so maybe I've been to all nine worlds of your... what do you call that snag?.. Oh yes, Yggdrasill. Perhaps even to Asgard," she turned to the Odinsons. "Are you sure you've never seen or heard of me before?"

Loki chose to simply ignore her. But Thor, it seems, began to rummage in his memories in earnest... Especially in those of Fandrall's stories about women he met. 

"t's not Asgard we are talking about now, but Jotunheim," Brunhilde reminded.

"Which, like Asgard, has nothing to do with this whole situation."

"Is it so hard for you to believe that it’s really very cold outside?”

"And is it so hard for you to believe that I really won't turn into ice?" Dana retorted. "Sweetie, I know what I'm doing."

"You always say that."

"Because it's always true."

"The hell it is," the Valkyrie disagreed. "Should I remind you how many times your 'I know what I'm doing' ended with a complete disaster?"

"So what? I've never said 'I know what's gonna happen after', have I? The future is a very uncertain thing. You rarely know for sure which turn it will take. I prefer not to even try to figure it out."

"As you wish," Brunhilde raised her hands in resignation. "Do what you want, as you usually do. I won't say another word to you."

"You will."

"No."

"See, what'd I say?"

"You're unbearable."

"Say something we don't know yet,” the trickster's voice cut in. “Better yet, go back to controlling the ship. We're on our way."

Brunhilde immediately turned her gaze to the windshield. Indeed, they almost flew over the city (in general, it was a city-state, but not the essence). Uinbjerg was a big city. Two hundred years ago. Now, it was just huge. Either they decided to build more hotels, or more industrial enterprises - it is not clear, but no matter what they decided to add, they added a lot. Although, there were still much more miles and miles of damned Bluin.

_It's amazing how they did it,_ she thought as she went down and slowed down. She may not be very versed in engineering, construction and architecture, but she certainly knew that it was better to erect large, heavy structures in which living creatures of varying degrees of rampage would have to live, on a flat surface. Uinbjerg was not deprived of flat areas of the surface. The trouble is, almost all of these areas were vertical in nature. _Although, two hundred years and a huge amount of resources are enough to fix almost every landscape_.

The Valkyrie tuned her communications and radar to the local frequency and was now looking for a parking lot that had empty seats. It would be possible to land at one of the airports, but there they always charge three times more for parking. Plus, it's awfully far from the center. Choosing from four options the one whose name was easiest to pronounce and remember, Brunhilde contacted the dispatcher and requested permission to land. In addition to the general data on the parameters of the ship, the dispatcher, however, also requested data on its crew, so she had to make a couple more circles above the parking lot while the exact number of passengers was being counted.

Finally, when all the conditions were met, the dispatcher reported the number of the parking lot and, wishing a successful landing, ended the call. It was hard not to notice the parking lot: three huge '6' sparkled brighter than Stark Tower in New York. For some reason, the number made Dana let out a short laugh.

"Attention, the captain of the ship is speaking," said the Valkyrie into the radio. She clearly liked the role of the main (and only) pilot. “Our vehicle is landing at Uinbjerg, Bluin. The temperature overboard is poor, so do not run head over heels to jump out when the ship sits down. The request, just like during the entry into the atmosphere, grab hold of something, and also grab hold of your children. I know that you didn't have much choice, but thanks anyway for choosing our company."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please... leave comments  
> Let them be my N-Y presents :)


	10. Higilga

The temperature outside, like the weather in general, was even more inhospitable than Brunnhilde had imagined. The wind was blowing, and the cold was so strong that even the Valkyrie's ammunition, which (more or less) withstood the frosts of Jotunheim, barely saved her from it.

"It-t-t's b-b-bloody c-c-cold-d-d," Thor said somehow, pounding his teeth and hugging himself with his hands in vain attempts to keep a little warm. If the Valkyrie's clothes, hiding her from throat to toe, did little to help, then what can we say about sleeveless armor.

"Tell me about it," Brunnhilde agreed with him, adding to her pace, although she and the thunder god were almost running towards the glazed building. "They need to solve this problem somehow. You can freeze to death until you get there."

"Your fault, you should've landed at the airport or look for a covered parking lot,” Dana told her. She, unlike her friend, walked slowly. Remembering something, the brown-haired woman grinned. "Well, and which one of us is frozen now?"

Brunnhilde looked at her either with hatred, or with surprise, or with both of them. Dana, dressed in what could pass for warm clothes only with a very large padding, felt great. So was Loki. And the Hulk. And if everything was more or less clear with the latter (if the avenger did not feel the slightest discomfort while beating Surtur, who was made entirely of red-hot lava, then what can simple frost do to him?), then these two... They were dressed completely out of the weather, however, they did not experience any discomfort from this very weather. Both seemed oblivious to the cold and the wind.

_Magic, not otherwise_ , Brunnhilde thought, not without envy. She, too, would not refuse... what kind of charm were these two using now?... in short, now she also really wanted to become immune to weather conditions. _These two have more in common than they think._

However, looking more closely, Brunnhilde realized that they had nothing in common (in this situation, at least). Everything was exactly the opposite. Loki did not feel cold because he himself was cold, and so much so that his breathing was almost the same temperature as the air. It couldn't even be seen. But Dana... Her breathing was visible very well. Hell, breath... her whole body exuded steam, like a cup of hot tea. Dana was immune to cold simply because she was too hot and somehow... but why "somehow"?... in a very definite magical way did not allow her body to cool down.

Though, the Valkyrie was wrong about one thing. Magic in this case was used only by Dana, for whom frostbite and death from the cold were very real, but extremely undesirable prospects. Loki, in turn, did not need magic so as not to freeze: he could quite calmly be even in open outer space, if there was something to breathe. Perhaps, if he thought about it, he would feel some joy from the presence of Jotun genes in him. But the only thing the trickster was thinking about now was a good sleep, so no joy came to him.

The registration hall greeted the newly arrived tourists with bright light and warmth, which Thor, whose teeth were dancing a tap dance, was overjoyed with. Brunnhilde, too, was glad to finally feel her fingers.

A woman came up to them in clothes that reminded Dana of the uniform of airport workers on Earth, only this option was clearly warmer, which was not surprising.

"Welcome to Uinbjerg,” the blonde said in the voice of a call center worker. To complete the picture, the only thing missing was quiet classical music somewhere in the background. "May I know the purpose of your visit?"

"Refuel,” the Valkyrie replied courteously before no one else — especially Dana — could open his/her mouth. "We will stay here for four to eight days."

"Can I see your documents and documents of other passengers?"

"Only two of us have documents, " Brunnhilde nodded towards her friend. She was just rummaging in her bag, perhaps in an attempt to find these very documents. "The rest of the crew are from Asgard, where they don't use paper or digital documents."

"In that case, we will drive fingerprints, retinas into the system and make identification cards," the woman said with the same polite smile. “It won't take more than fifteen minutes per person."

"Yes, thanks. We also need thermal coats. Do you have a pick-up point here?"

"Unfortunately not, but we will contact the nearest airport and they will be delivered within an hour. Are there as many coats as there are passengers?"

"No, minus three," Loki, Dana and Hulk felt great and clearly did not need coats. The Valkyrie waited for the blonde to send a request to the airport from her tablet, and continued: "And the guidebooks?"

"At the exit near the information desk. Need help unloading your luggage?"

"No luggage, only hand baggage."

"Great," the woman smiled even wider, as if posing for a toothpaste advertisement. "The coats are on the way. I suggest registering you for now, and then the others. ”She pulled out a small scanner from her pocket. "Your documents, madam?"

Brunnhilde silently held out her wrist, palm down. She preferred chipping. For some reason, many were against this method. Probably because they never had to restore documents, the Asgardian thought. She herself, in a drunken stupor, lost them three times and went through hell three times when she restored them. Those lines almost drove her mad...

"Your documents, madam?" the blonde stopped opposite Dana. She silently handed her her passport, or rather one of her passports. The woman scanned the document, then stared at the device with suspicion. “I'm sorry, madam, but the scanner does not recognize this document."

"And?" the woman asked with an imperturbable face.

"It is necessary to provide documents confirming your identity."

"Which is exactly what I just did."

"Documents _readable_ by a scanner,” the blond woman said.

"It's not my fault that this thing "reads" poorly," the brown-haired woman shrugged her shoulders and turned to the Valkyrie. "If anything, I'm waiting at the information desk to book a hotel. What number would you like?"

"I'll book it myself," Brunnhilde replied. 

"As you wish. Then I'm not waiting. See you here tomorrow afternoon," Dana turned on her heels and walked from her hip to the place of scanning of hand luggage and luggage, waving her hand goodbye. "Ciao."

"But, madam, your documents..." the blonde wanted to hint that if the scanner cannot read the document, then it is not its fault, but the fault of the document, and that, according to the rules, the passenger must either provide other identity documents or go through a different registration procedure, but Dana took hints almost the same way as Thor did. Only if the thunder god, like most men, simply did not know how to recognize them, then Dana recognized them very well, but she preferred not to pay attention to them if it was not beneficial to her. She long ago realized that if you ignore the rules, then in most cases they are quietly rewritten so that they do not apply to _her_. And now, the blonde sighed resignedly and turned to the three people remaining. "Please follow me one at a time. Who is going to be the fi...?

"Me," the woman did not have time to finish the phrase, as Loki interrupted her, stepping forward. He was impatient to leave this building as soon as possible, rent a room with a luxurious bed and sleep until tomorrow morning.

***

It took a shit... a lot of time to register half a thousand migrant tourists. All this to let tired from the long wait Asgardians have a light snack (in Asgard a light snack is three or four dishes, not counting cheeses and nuts) in the nearest places where the food was served, and then go back to the ship to make plans for tomorrow and to have a good sleep before fulfilling these very plans.

Brunnhilde wouldn't mind sleeping either, considering the last few days. She chose the hotel on the simple principle: that the hotel was next to the parking lot, and even better - right in it. Unfortunately, the Hulk used the same criteria. And Thor, too. So, reflecting on her situation, Valkyrie decided that the only way to long and, if she's lucky, a serene sleep under the snoring floor above - that's where the snoring duo settled - would be to get properly wasted.

"Okay, guys, go to bed, and I'm gonna find some eatery and have a glass," said Brunnhilde, but her innate honesty made her change the wording somewhat: "Or rather, a barrel."

"Oh, I'm going with you!" immediately exclaimed Thor. The thermo-coat may have warmed up well outside, but alcohol in the right doses - here it is worth noting that the thunder god did not recognize units of measurement less than a liter - warmed you from the inside.

"Hulk too."

Two Asgardians stared at him with a look with which one usually asks: "Who, you said, did you kill, Holy Father?". Hulk never drank, he never needed: he had no problems with sleep, and depression and various stresses - apparently afraid to get smashed - diligently bypassed him. Besides, the avenger's stomach was able to digest a bullet, so what some alcohol could possibly do to him?

"What?" the avenger stared back at them. "Hulk not want to be alone."

"O-okay then," the Valkyrie replied a bit uncertainly. A very terrible thought suddenly occurred to her: what if alcohol _will_ have an effect? Even when sober, Hulk is always looking for someone or something to smash, and under the influence of booze... Even if Dana breaks into all the grandmaster's accounts, this money will still not be enough to compensate for the losses. "And how do you generally tolerate alcohol?"

"Don't know, Hulk never drink before."

"Well, we'll find out this soon enough..." she muttered to herself. "Okay, follow me."

They went outside and they immediately began to ripple in the eyes of the number of light bulbs. Uinbjerg shone brighter than Broadway. It was getting dark here quickly, and fogs with snowstorms were not uncommon, so for the inhabitants of not only Uinbjerg, but also of Bluin as a whole, there was no such thing as "too many lights." You either walk along well-lit streets or bump into everything in bad weather. And bad weather does not mean frost, ice, blizzards and cloudiness - this is considered normal here, one might even say favorable weather conditions. No, bad weather in Uinbjerg is when the wind lifts into the air snow, garbage (and, moreover, together with urns), as well as children under the age of ten. At the same time, so much snow falls that you do not so much fall into it, as you dive, and the fog becomes so thick that it is not immediately possible to understand: you have already got out of the snowdrift or need to continue digging?

Thus, bright light bulbs on every corner was a necessary measure, if not for survival, then to reduce the number of accidents.

However, the harsh living conditions in some sense contributed to the rapid flowering of this planet, in particular the flourishing of its technological progress. Bluin has given the universe just a huge number of inventors. And it's not surprising. On Sakaar, for example, when a person wakes up and looks out the window, he sees (in addition to a mountain of garbage, of course) a bright sun and thinks: "Great weather, I'll probably go for a walk, and at the same time buy a ticket for tomorrow's fight." On Bluin, when a person wakes up and looks out the window, he either can't fuckin' see anything because of the snow that has flooded the window, or sees an ever-cloudy sky, and at the same time a thermometer on which the scale with a sign of + (or at least 0) is simply absent. What do you think this person thinks: "Oh, what beautiful weather, I'm going for a walk!"? No, he thinks: “It's fuckin' freezing outta there, I'll probably go and invent something. Desirably, something that won't let me freeze my balls when I go to the store to get bread." It was the residents of Bluin who first invented heaters, removable heat carriers, thermo-clothes (a special 'thanks' to them for this) and a lot of everything, one way or another aimed at not to die of cold.

But perhaps Brunnhilde's most beloved invention was the Higilga - a transparent liquid, the recipe for which - to the great regret of the Asgardian woman - was never printed on the packaging. This liquid was not whiskey, nor was it gin, but its strength, judging by the sensations, was no less than three hundred degrees. When the Valkyrie used to live in Uinbjerg, this tincture helped her a lot in those moments that sometimes arose in the middle of the night, when she woke up in a cold sweat after a nightmare and could not remember who she was and where she was. After just one glass of clear liquid, the Valkyrie still did not remember who she was and where she was, but it did not matter anymore, because she was becoming a completely different person.

Brunnhilde had no idea what the drink was being driven from, but she knew for sure that it was available in every institution on this planet: be it a third-rate eatery, a posh restaurant, a store or an elementary school. Therefore, as soon as the Valkyrie's gaze caught the blinding-eye sign with the image of a mug, she immediately dragged the two avengers inside.

The tavern was warm and smelled of greasy fried food, alcohol and smoke, in general, it smelled exactly as it should smell in taverns. The people inside were having fun. Well, or for what passes for fun, if you work all day in an office or at a factory - after a ten-hour day of monotonous work, anything will seem fun. As soon as the door closed behind the trio, everyone turned their heads to them, giving them a glance of honest workers, which said that it would not rust for anyone here to slam you with a chair or something heavier, if anything, and then throw your poor body into the nearest snowdrift. Although, as soon as the turn came to the Hulk, all the heads immediately turned back.

Brunnhilde strode towards the bar. Thor and the Hulk followed her, sitting on her right and left. The bartender silently handed the menu to the newcomers. The three of them immediately plunged into reading. As the Valkyrie thought, Higilga was here. Moreover, there was a separate list of drinks based on it. These cocktails were called beautifully, like "Hot Ice", "Blue Haze" and so on, although given what was in these cocktails as a basis, the name "Ta-Ta, My Poor Brain" would be more suitable for all of them.

_Well, if scoffing at the body, then scoffing to the full_ , decided Brunhilde and silently poked her finger at the familiar name.

"Same for me,” said Thor, who had no idea what kind of drink it was.

"Hulk too!"

The bartender nodded silently and placed three large Higilga mugs in front of them. This tincture, like any drink in which it appears, had to be served either in a glass or in a wooden dish due to the fact that it worked with iron. The Higilga could clean spoons.

_We shall definitely buy more of it on the road_ , thought the Valkyrie, taking a small sip from her mug and immediately feeling her tongue, throat and, sooner, stomach burning. Maybe at least this liquid will help peel off the pan Thor used to cook. Shel took another sip and grimaced. _No, the pan won't take it_.

"I have a toast," Thor exclaimed, raising his cup. "For our first intermediate station and for the first documents of the people of Asgard!"

After these words, Thor brought the mug to his mouth and drained it in several large, continuous gulps, loudly hitting the counter at the end with it. All those present, who had previously watched him with bated breath and counting his gulps, now looked at him as if he had just performed at least three miracles before their eyes.

"Nice drink," the thunder god praised the bartender with a smile, and held out an empty mug. "Another!"

"You liked it?" asked the bartender with huge eyes, taking the empty vessel. It was not only that Thor drank more than a pint of the tincture without choking. But the bartender was literally struck by the fact that he was still upright and, apparently, was still alive.

"A little thick and gives off acid, but in general, pretty good thing."

Refilling the mug with Higilga, he handed it to Thor. From the outside, it looked like he had just presented Thor with a prize for winning some incredible competition. The god began to destroy the second portion, but at a bit calmer pace and not in such large gulps. Everyone, including the Valkyrie, continued to stare at him, dazed, as the bartender wondered what his stomach was made of and concluded that it was most likely made of the same material as his teeth were.

Having drunk about half of the second Higilga, the thunder god put the mug on the counter and began to pull off the thermo-coat.

"It's getting kind of hot…” he muttered, getting up from his chair to hang his clothes on a hanger.

As soon as Thor's feet touched the floor, all visitors were convinced that in front of them was a living creature of flesh and blood. His whole body suddenly froze and began to fall. The tavern has never seen such an impressive collapse. The thunder god fell backward slowly like a gigantic tree. No bending knees, no touching tables on the way to the floor. He simply went from vertical to horizontal position in one geometry-perfect movement.

The visitors, along with the bartender, breathed a sigh of relief and returned to their business. The Valkyrie looked at the Asgardian for a while, and then, when she was convinced that this dumbass was still breathing, albeit not as loudly as usual, she returned to her mug, drinking its contents in small sips. The Hulk has shown incredible prudence in following her example, and not the example of his brother in sex.

Higilga quickly did her job. Within a couple of minutes, Brunnhilde felt that she was beginning to stop being a Valkyrie, and was becoming someone… someone drunk and very happy. However, the brain immersed in an alcoholic bath still managed to gurgle a signal that made her turn to the only sober (at least for now) member of their group with the words:

"If this thing doesn't work on you," she pointed her finger at the almost untouched higiliga, "take us to the hotel," some more gurgling came from the alcohol bath. "Please."


	11. Pleasant unpleasantness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, guys, leave comments. I truly need them.

While a certain Valkyrie and a certain avenger were pumping themselves up with alcohol, in one of the hotels a certain trickster and a certain demigoddess slept peacefully. Although, it is unlikely that their dream would have been peaceful, if these two had known that they were separated from each other not by a huge distance, as they would like, but by only one wall. Whoever was in charge of the coincidence today, he definitely had a sense of humor, and it was definitely black.

Dana woke up because she felt thirsty. She threw off five blankets from her naked body and lowered her bare feet onto a fluffy carpet, the thickness of which would easily hide an entire tribe of pygmies. Many tourists, checking into hotels, are very surprised when they find there carpets covering every centimeter of the floor even in the bathroom, a huge number of thick blankets, because of which the bed resembles a cube, a maxi-bar filled to the brim with booze with a degree of at least fifty (on Bluin, drinks are either hot, or alcoholic, or milk) and a stack of books, magazines and other waste paper, on top of which there is a large pack of matches. However, everything becomes clear if, during their rest, the heating system is suddenly broken. Then the unfortunate tourists fully realize the need for these items, which make up ninety percent of the mandatory set of "Keeping ourselves warm any way possible" for all hotels (the remaining ten percent were contraceptives in the bedside drawer).

Not bothering to turn on the light, the brown-haired woman walked towards the small refrigerator. Taking out a bottle of milk, she filled a glass with it and went out onto the balcony, not even thinking about wearing at least something. What's the point? There is no use in her clothes in such cold weather. And the fact that someone could see her did not bother her: she was never shy about nakedness. It was almost impossible to confuse Dana, but she often confused everyone around her. It was a kind of hobby. In terms of morality, Dana surpassed even cats, falling so low that, having made an almost full turn, she was about to start falling again from above.

_Besides, who will see me, anyway?_ flashed through her head when she looked down. _My room is on the eighth floor_.

Drinking milk, she surveyed the city. Even though it was clearly night now, it was light in Uinbjerg. It all sparkled from bright signs, lights, lanterns and lights of passing or flying cars. Her hotel was also sparkling. There was more light on the balcony now than in the inside of the room. Thinking about how she now looks in the silvery light of the many tiny lanterns above her head, Dana smiled smugly. She must have looked mesmerizing. She even felt sorry that there was no one to watch her. And not only to watch...

_I really should find myself someone with whom you to tumble in bed_ , she thought, sighing. She hasn't had sex for more than a week. This will not work. _I’ll deal with this tomorrow, after I speak to Brunnhilde. And we will probably need to sneak around the shops.._. 

The sound of the neighboring balcony door opening distracted her from further reflections on her plans, but only for a second. If she allowed herself to be distracted by every sound, her life would be much more hectic. But when a minute later a gust of wind literally pushed a familiar smell into her nose, Dana immediately switched from thoughts back to reality.

_You've got to be kidding me_ , flashed through her head, as soon as she saw her neighbor. She froze with her head turned to the god of lies and a glass of half-drunk milk in her hand.

Loki, contrary to his expectations, woke up not in the morning of the next day, but at night of the same day. Given that he felt quite rested, the trickster suggested that the nights on this planet were much longer. Going out onto the balcony, he found out that despite the fact that the whole of Uinbjerg was glowing, it was a night time now. What else he found out was his bad luck.

_Although_ , he thought, moving away from the momentary shock at the sight of his neighbor, _another one in my place would hardly consider **this** to be bad luck_.

Loki seemed to be frozen with his feet to the floor, unable to look away from the picture in front of his eyes. As much as he disliked Dana, the trickster had to admit that she was, as Benner once put it, gorgeous. Outwardly, for sure. She lacked the sophistication or elegance he had seen during his life in Asgard. Dana was, rather, the opposite of these two concepts, more like a savage than a lady. However, she was incredibly appealing, possibly because of her “wild” beauty. This woman just exuded sexuality. Dana could seduce (or harass) just staying quietly in the next room.  
  


At the moment she was more than a pleasant sight. Thick, chocolate hair glistened in the light of the tiny lamps, and steam radiated from the smooth, swarthy skin. The trickster suddenly remembered their little fight a few days ago and how he had grabbed her by the leg. Remembered the feel of her skin under his palm. If even then Dana seemed almost hot to him, then what would he feel if he had touched her now...

A sudden gust of wind helped Loki get rid of the obsession, pulling the trickster's hair into his eyes and slightly parted mouth. When he pulled the tangled strands back, the subject of his observation was already staring back at him with her large yellow eyes. As far as the trickster could tell from the way the dark eyebrows twitched, the woman was also surprised to meet him.

And here they started their favorite game again - gazing. This time it was harder to withstand the gaze of the cat-like eyes, because Loki's gaze now and then strove to sink lower. He knew he was staring openly at her for almost a minute, and he knew she knew it. Even the most advanced minds cannot always beat hormones. Only the reluctance to give this woman another victory and truly _divine_ endurance did not allow the trickster to break eye contact.

_She's not even trying to cover herself up_ , the thought flashed through his head. The fact that Dana was not a shy person Loki realized the very next morning after they first met, when the woman showed up in the kitchen wearing nothing but a towel. And her manner of communication - especially with the Valkyrie - also said a lot. But to stand so calmly, while being completely naked, and even in front of a strange - well, okay, familiar, but not very well - man... - _Is she really not at all embarrassed?_

No, Loki immediately found an answer to the question himself when Dana, as if nothing had happened, raised a glass to her lips and began to drink what remained in it, without breaking eye contact. When she finished, she licked the remaining liquid from her lips and, turning, walked slowly back to the room, leaving the trickster alone with his own thoughts.

***

Meanwhile, at the "Foam Mug" tavern, evening — or rather, night — had just entered that interesting phase, when everyone drank too much, but still not enough to drop dead. Although, Thor, still lying on the floor after drunk in few gulps Higilga, did not fit into this picture a little.

  
  
In fact, about fifty of the inn's patrons were now busy stumbling and kicking while performing the Snake Dance. The performers had to get drunk as fuck, grab the waist of the one staying in front and, thus forming a long articulated crocodile, they had to jump-stumble, filling with a deafening cackle and making unpredictable turns, through as many rooms as possible, preferably containing battered objects. At the same time, be sure to throw your feet in an uncertain direction to the beat of the rhythm of the dance. Or at worst to the beat of at least some rhythm. In such dances the main thing is to constantly move your legs. At least some steps will definitely turn out to be correct.  
  


  
  
And the Hulk was trying to get drunk. This required incredible efforts from him, but the results were obvious. He no longer had the desire to destroy everything that moves (and that doesn't move either). Anger - his constant component - was also hardly felt. On the contrary, the Hulk felt better than ever. Apparently, pints of corrosive liquid got to the nerves and dissolved them completely.

"What else should happen in this case?" the avenger asked the bartender, after draining another mug.

"How many servings did you drink?" 

The Hulk hesitated. Higher mathematics went into action.

"Forty-seven," he summed up after several minutes of careful counting.

"In that case, almost everything can happen," replied the bartender.

"Hulk is drunk, right?"

"I serve anyone who can maintain a more or less vertical position."

"Then Hulk want more!" the avenger put an empty mug in the counter.

Without further hesitation, the bartender refilled the wooden vessel with booze, putting another "+" sign in the notebook. If everything goes on this way, then by the end of this night he will collect a week's proceeds.

***

Smiling, Dana was basking in the bath, the water in which was separated from the boil by some couple of degrees. The room was hot, like a sauna. The smartphone, finally charged again, was filling the room with Ray Charles's baritone. A pleasant aroma was emanating from the lit candles placed around the room. The woman felt amazing.

The meeting on the balcony, contrary to common sense, also contributed to this delightful well-being. Dana considered herself an independent and self-sufficient woman who did not need anyone else. However, there was one snag: you have to boast of your independence and self-sufficiency in front of someone. People who don't need anyone need people around them to see that they absolutely don't need anyone. Besides, the type of attention she received an hour ago raised her already high self-esteem. The fact that it was a trickster only reinforced the effect. It is simple to put a stranger into a stupor, but making someone who can't stand you speechless with just the way you look... you have to be damn good to do that. And Dana definitely was.

He clearly liked what he saw. She saw _how_ he looked at her, felt how his scent changed. She knew exactly what effect she had. Now, scrolling those few minutes in her head, Dana felt a warmth rise in her. Not the kind that comes when she uses her magic, but the very warmth she feels when she's around someone she finds attractive. It was the heat that originates somewhere in the lower back, pulls into a knot in the abdomen and then causes goosebumps on the back of the neck. Dana closed her eyes and exhaled noisily, throwing her head back. How long has it been since she last experienced this feeling... In this case, "long" was defined as a little over a week.

_Yeah, better not to delay the search for a partner_ , the woman thought. _If the attention of this trickster makes me feel this way, then everything is much worse than it seemed at first. Last thing I need is to get to the point of starting thinking about him in this way. However, if we met under other circumstances_... she tried to imagine how everything would have gone if they had met, say, at one of the Grandmaster's parties. Dana imagined. Then laughed to herself. Then presented another option and laughed as well. _All the same, nothing would have changed. Only I would be free from contemplating his physiognomy for about two more months_. 

Throwing the trickster and other thoughts out of her head, Dana reached for one of her many bottles and started soaping her hair, singing along to Ray Charles in her phone.

***

For Loki, the night has passed ... Well, the night has passed, and thanks for that. He never managed to fall asleep again, partly because of the sounds from the next room: first there was music, and then some kind of humming thing turned on. However, when everything was quiet, it did not help him much. The brain, damn thing, had enough time to rest and again began to work on all eight cylinders.

Loki always had a lively imagination. However, after the incident on the balcony, it seems to have decided to start living on its own. Dana, who already popped up in the trickster's head more often than she should, this time settled down there for the night, and she obviously forgot to bring clothes with her. He had to add there Hulk, Hela and a couple of other personalities who did not cause much delight in Loki in order to somehow distract himself.

_Damn this woman_ , thought the god of lies as he ate breakfast. It was early morning, which meant that most of the local population had long awakened, swore at the fuckin' cold outside the window and went to work, or back to bed, or to the garage to invent something else. Loki quickly learned to distinguish locals from tourists. It was not difficult at all: the natives of Bluin had fair complexion and high height, were either brunet or blond, and the color of the eyes ranged from transparent blue to deep dark blue. Another distinguishing feature was that they always carried a small wooden barrel, the size of a flask, and something made trickster think that the liquid inside it was far from tea, much less water. _Speaking about tea._..

Loki called the waiter and ordered another cup. He had no idea what they were making this tea from (or if it was tea at all), but it tasted great. Unfortunately, the same could not be said about desserts. The trickster loved sweets. All types: biscuits, baked goods, ice cream, sweets. Especially chocolate ones.

Imagination immediately hastened to throw into the common cauldron of thoughts something else that was "sweet" and chocolate, and also hot. Loki swore to himself again, or rather, swore the one whose image floated before his eyes. _Again_.

_Damn this woman_ , the god of lies thought for the umpteenth time in the last 24 hours, pushing the memory away. _Even at a distance, she manages to spoil my mood_.

***

Brunnhilde woke up - and immediately regretted it.

For the last couple of thousand years, the hangover has been her most loyal companion. The Valkyrie, while gaining experience as a drunkard, managed to feel on her own skin, probably, all possible kinds of this condition, which can be described by elephants dancing on your head, drought in your mouth and so on. However, the hangover that comes after the Uinbjergian higilga is a species that cannot be described.

Right now she felt as if her teeth had dissolved in acid and all this nasty stuff settled on her tongue, throat and stomach, and she preferred not to even think about the state of her head now. It’s hard to think when there are only three convolutions left in your brain, and even those are cutting corners. 

She was extremely thirsty. But in order to get to the water (or any other liquid, except for the higilga), it was necessary to get up, and her body was not yet capable of such feats. She couldn't even open her eyelids.

Meanwhile, while Brunnhilde was laying on - she tried to concentrate on sensations - the floor, the minutes of innocent freedom came to an end and three unfortunate brain convolutions began to reproduce the events of yesterday evening, albeit in no particular order. Valkyrie remembered the common dance, if it could be called that, remembered how she tried to juggle... she couldn't remember what exactly it was... then she remembered her solo dance with a sword and a chair, as well as a couple of other her actions, which then seemed logical to her and funny. And then she was struck in the head by the realization that she was going to watch her friends (Thor, who had quietly lain for a certain time unconscious in a corner, by the middle of the event got well and joined the general fun) in the eyes, only today she is sober, and they are sober, and most importantly - both she and they remember.

Having made truly titanic efforts, Brunnhilde managed to open her eyes. The first thing she was convinced of was that she really was lying on the floor, or rather on the carpet. Second, this carpet was clearly not in the tavern. So the Hulk did managed to retain enough intelligence and coordination to carry her to the hotel. Somehow standing up and looking around, the Valkyrie noticed both the green avenger, napping across the bed, and Thor, who was also thrown on the floor not far from her.

Brunnhilde was an experienced drunkard, and therefore did not even try to get to her feet. She just crawled towards the bathroom. It was possible, of course, to crawl to the bottles of water, but, firstly, in order to reach the box in which they lied, she would have to get up, and secondly, even if she somehow managed to get what she wanted, Valkyrie wasn't sure her brain could send the correct signal to her fingers to open the bottle. Better to drink water from the bathtub tap: it's much easier and she will wash her face at the same time.

The water, of course, could not remove the sediment left by the Higilga, but the Valkyrie felt that if she tried to say something, then the chances that not only wheezing, but also words would erupt from her throat, increased at least threefold. And after washing the face, keeping her eyes open became much easier. Seeing these very eyes also began to be much better, and therefore the Valkyrie was not only able to notice the clock, but also to focus on it and see what time it was. And when she succeeded, she almost recovered from the hangover naturally.

_Oh shit_ , flashed through Brunnhilde's head when she remembered what had happened before the binge.  
  


It was lunchtime. Just when she was supposed to stand in the parking lot and discuss plans with her friend. The brain helpfully reminded its owner that this very friend is Dana.

"Oh shit..."


	12. A bit about the past

Dana could be called patient with a stretch that this word would not have withstood. She knew how to wait (lionesses also know how to wait for their prey, even if they are very hungry), but this was by no means due to patience. Rather, it was persistence. Dana could wait (sometimes even long enough), if she knows that eventually she will get what she wants, and if she _is made to_ wait, she will _make_ it come to the end as she wanted, even if for this she has to omit heaven to earth.

_And where is she hanging around?_ The woman thought, glancing at the phone for the sixth time. _Or rather, where is she lying around_?

Brunnhilde was late. Although, it may seem strange to some: how can you be late for a meeting scheduled not for a specific time, but for aa “afternoon”? "See you in the afternoon" - it can mean almost anything! For barely familiar people, this is definitely true, but when you have tolerated someone (who tolerates whom is always a controversial question) for thirty years, such seemingly abstract concepts acquire quite concrete meanings. In the case of this couple, afternoon was a time interval that begins at the moment of Dana's normal awakening - that is, somewhere around noon - and ends with the lunch break of the rest of the population (it all depends, of course, on the place, but most often it means about two o'clock in the afternoon). Now it was not two o'clock in the afternoon, therefore, Valkyrie was late for an afternoon meeting with the best friend.

While Dana remembered Brunnhilde with an unkind word, she was approached by one of the parking workers.

"Is there anything I can help you with, ma'am?" he asked.

The woman squinted her eyes in his direction and quickly looked from head to toe. Man the ordinary, she decided to herself, judging by the pale skin and bright blue eyes, a native of Bluin. Cute. If Dana was in a better mood now, she might have shown more interest in him.

"You can bring me some hot chocolate."

"Excuse me?"

"Oh, yes, there is no such thing here..." there was a regret in her voice, besides irritation. "Okay, then bring me some hot milk."

"Excuse me?" he said again.

"And why does it always get so hard for men…” the woman breathed in. "I. Want. Milk." she said clearly. "Bring it."

"Excuse me, ma'am, this is not really what I do,” the man replied politely. "I simply help visitors."

"Then help me as a visitor to get a cup of milk. This task is definitely simple."

"Excuse me, ma'am, but I'm not a waiter, ma'am, I'm a parking lot employee."

"And do I state otherwise?" Dana arched an eyebrow. "You offered me help and I accepted it, so go right ahead. And don't make me wait, I've already had enough of that."

"Ma'am?" the man looked at her with the confusion of a first-year schoolboy who strayed from the common herd during a school trip.

"You men are truly idiots... " the woman sighed wearily. "Milk. Hot. Go."

"I'm not a waiter, ma'am,” the worker said again.

"Are waiters the only ones on this planet who are capable of holding dishes in their hands, or what?"

"Um, no, but..."

"But what? Nobody pulled you by the tongue. You have to answer for your words, so be a good boy and just bring me the damn milk!" the irritation in her voice grew to such an extent that it covered the sarcasm. "Now."

The man quickly set priorities. It's better to let his pride hurt than himself. And the employee did not doubt that he could suffer in one way or another. This woman showed with all her appearance that continuing to irritate her would be as sensible as, for example, putting your hand in an aquarium with piranhas. Therefore, the man immediately left in the direction of the nearest place, where milk could be found.

Dana followed his back with a displeased look... and with the very same displeased look met the Valkyrie, who entered the same doors behind which the parking worker had just disappeared. Brunnhilde, apparently, felt from where and _who_ was looking at her, and went to her friend. It is worth noting that the world has seen a better gait. For example, in the performance of penguins or a company of soldiers-newcomers who do not denounce "right" and "left", and also are deaf in one ear.

As soon as Brunnhilde, without any aerodynamic grace, fell into a chair next to her friend, Dana immediately winced at the simultaneously unfamiliar and familiar smell. Alcohol. It was not the first time for a woman to see and smell a drunk or hungover Valkyrie, on the contrary, it was her most natural state (it was much more unusual to see her sober during the last days). Although, such a smell of alcohol Dana had never met. Apparently, her friend decided to restore her acquaintance with the local culture with local drinks. Judging by the state in which the representative of the elite armed detachment of Asgard was, the shortage of local drinks, if not yet, will soon come.

"You look like shit," Dana greeted her friend.

"And feel the same way," Brunnhilde somehow managed to articulate her words into a response. "Sorry for being late."

"Just how much booze did you gorge, sweetie? Anyway, you don't have to answer, I doubt you are able to remember that. I take it, you can keep me company on a shopping trip only as a dead weight. Though, even if you could move normally, I don’t think that I would drag you with me: if only you knew how you stink right now..."

"Thanks for your kind words, friend,” the Valkyrie quipped. "You, I remember, wanted to talk?"

"And do you want to listen?" 

"Right now I don't really want to live, but do I have a choice? Your displeasure is the last thing I need. And this city too..."

"You're kinda late, sweetie, my displeasure has already arrived and made itself home."

"I've already apologized, haven't I?" Brunnhilde said in an unhappy tone.

"An apology does not change what has already been done,” Dana replied. “For that matter, nothing can change what once happened."

"Isn't there too much pathos for simply being late?"

"I was speaking in general," the woman said. "This is a very interesting topic, by the way. I, at one time, spent a lot of time studying this issue."

"And?" asked the Valkyrie.

"And learnt it. With my magic it was relatively easy, albeit energy-intensive. I constantly heard the phrase: “You cannot change the past,” and at some point I became curious, why? Although no, at first I was wondering if that was really so, and only then came the question "why?"

"And?"

"And what?"

"And why can't you change the past?" Brunnhilde asked. Dana loved being listened to (she considered anyone who was able to listen carefully to her for about half an hour to be a tolerable interlocutor), and if there was even a tiny chance that the next lecture would slightly improve her friend's mood, the Valkyrie was ready to suffer a terrible migraine.

"Because the past presupposes that something has been accomplished, and therefore, this something is forever imprinted in time and space. You can try to change the future, but not the past. You cannot undo what has been done."

"But what about time-traveling?"

"And what about time-traveling?"

"You, as it turned out, not only went to another galaxy, but also three decades ago. So you changed Sakaar's past. And mine, probably, too."

"I didn't change it, I created a new one."

"Isn't it the same thing?"

"Of course not," Dana replied. "Call it an alternate past, if you wish. Have you ever heard anything about the butterfly effect?" Valkyrie shook her head in silence. "The whole point of it is that a little intervention has huge consequences. Something like "what goes around, comes around." Anyway, what it's all about... Certain events - and almost all, to be honest - determine what turn will take your life at the fork of the future. In fact, the future is the only thing we can change. The present is the most incomprehensible part of all three times: what is "now"? How do you define it? How to measure it? Is the present what's happening to you in this second? Well, there's hole in this plot: the second is made up of milliseconds, and it turns out that there will always be past milliseconds and future ones in a second. So, then the present is what's going on at the moment? In that case, how do you measure this very moment itself? Is there any unit of time that can measure the moment, and the very concept of "present" along with it? I was trying to figure out the smallest unit of time, by the way. So far, the shortest is the road second, but who knows..."

"The road second?" Brunnhilde asked again.

"Yeah. It equals the amount of time passed between a green traffic light and a hoot of a car behind you. When you go for a ride... I mean, when you stand in traffic jams, you will understand what I'm talking about."

"Weren't we talking about the past, what do the present and the future have to do with it?"

"They have everything to do with it," the woman answered. "Times cannot exist one without the other. There are either all three of them, or no time at all, understand? And the most interesting thing is that even considering all these, we can only be in one time - in the present. In fact, I have never been in the past or in the future. Nobody was and never will be."

"You've just confused me to no end," Brunnhilde admitted. "You told me yourself that you travel through time and space."

"Yes, but "traveling through time" is not the most suitable name for it: "traveling through the present" would do better, as for me, although it doesn't sound that pretty. After all, as soon as you move to another point in time, it immediately becomes your present, and being in this present, you can only change the future. And not even completely change, but rather choose, because no matter which of the forks you go, the rest of the roads will not disappear. And if, after a while, you return to this very fork and choose another path, the trodden path will still not disappear, because you have already walked along it. As a result, no matter how many years ago you go back, no matter how many times you come back and no matter what choice you make, you always act only in the present and change only the future, not the past. It's just that one day this future becomes your past, your another past," Dana sighed, ending the story. "Now it's clear?"

" So, in this hyperspace of yours there is... a time-line, shall we say, in which you did not appear in my life?" clarified Brunnhilde. "In which you have never appeared on Sakaar?"

"Exactly."

"And even if you go back and dissuade yourself from retreating to another galaxy, the past will still not change?"

"Yep."

There was a short pause, during which Brunnhilde tried to figure out what to reply to this.

"Wow," the Valkyrie couldn't find a better answer. "And how much time did you waste to get to the bottom of this?"

"Not that much," Dana shrugged. "I was then obsessed with the idea of getting to the bottom of the truth of the universe - essence of creation, if you wish - I wanted to know where it all began, how, why, how the whole world works... Curiosity then played to its fullest, just like hormones."

For a while they sat in silence, unless, of course, the clatter of hundreds of feet, hundreds of voices, the sounds of technology and other noises of the parking lot could be called silence.

"And?" the Valkyrie broke the quiet.

"And what?"

"Did you get it? To the essence of creation, I mean."

"Almost. I had to stop myself."

"Were you afraid that you could not get to the final end?"

"Rather the opposite, actually. I was afraid that I would get there."

"That's rather... weird argument, don't you think?" sometimes Brunnhilde thought that her friend was not all right with her head.

"Not at all. There must be a mystic in life," the woman shrugged her shoulders, "something that you do not know in order to maintain interest in this very life. Moreover, knowledge is power, and an excess of power can turn one's head. In the worst possible sense. And that, I don’t need."

"Then why were you doing it in the first place?"

"Told you, curiosity was eating me up."

"Your curiosity must be a hell of a thing," the Valkyrie muttered under her breath.

Dana chose to remain silent (which was surprising in itself). Brunnhilde was right. Curiosity may have killed the cat, but the curiosity that Dana felt about the mysteries of the universe would have been enough to brutally deal with a whole pride of lions. This character trait never let her get bored, no matter how many years passed. The longest trips start with the phrase “I know a shortcut”, but the most interesting ones start with questions like “What if...?”. And the woman asked questions constantly. And she was constantly looking for answers to them, with such an enviable persistence. And all because of the damn feline curiosity...

_Someday, my curiosity will ruin me_ , she thought. Dana was more than sure of that. Someday the question "What if ...?" will arise in her head again. Someday she will become obsessed with this feeling again, only this time she will not be able to stop and will go to the final end. And that is when her own end will come. _Someday, but not now_. 

"Well, since you managed to stand my lecture about time and travel,” the woman began with a sly smile, “you can definitely stand the shopping trip. And on the way we will discuss what I planned to."

"Oh no, not this..." the Valkyrie sighed doomedly.

"But first thing first, you must take a shower. What hotel are you staying at?"

Brunnhilde had no choice but to surrender and come to terms with her unfortunate fate. Who knows, maybe her friend will manage to scrape together a little pity from the corners of her black soul (if she had any soul at all), and they will drop by on the way to some pharmacy...

The parking attendant, however, was in mixed feelings. On the one hand, he was terribly glad that this terrifying woman had finally disappeared. But on the other hand, what should he do now with a bottle of milk, for which he ran across the whole street?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, guys, I know leaving comments is not the most exiting thing, but I need some feedback. So far, there was only 1, thus I have only 1 view on this work (except mine), thus I don't really have an idea how you feel about this whole work.   
> Is there something that irritates you? Is there something that you like and would like to see more? Is there something that confuse you?  
> I cannot give myself a critical view on this work (it's like a dear child to me), but you can. You can and, please, do it, for I truly need - and really want - to receive some feedback from you ))


	13. Damn

Life in the palace may have had certain advantages, such as extensive chambers, no less extensive cellars in which a whole regiment of cavers could easily get lost, and a staff of servants, which was inherited along with the reserves of the aforementioned cellar (servants rarely paid attention to who is their master now, and sometimes they did not know at all; kings come and go, but the dust remains), however, it was far from as idle as it is accepted to believe, and sometimes not as long as we would like. In Asgard, monarchy reigned and family ties were key when it came to status and office. And given that the Asgardians were distinguished by a really long life, advancement in the social and career ladder was slow, and therefore everyone took it for granted that younger aristocrats often sought promotion through white slippers, that they put on their competitors. For many years, natural selection in its purest form has established that only those royal dynasties survive whose members are able to determine the presence of a night assassin by rustling, with which the assassin, being skillful enough, never accompanies his movements, as well as those who are capable of determine whether by eyes or smell if any additives such as arsenic, cyanide or snake venom are present in the drink or meal. The skill is dictated by the necessity. All aristocrats were innately suspicion, for they were all descendants of people (in the broadest sense of the word, of course), who survived precisely because of absolute suspicion and complete paranoia. It is not surprising that most kings at some point go crazy and start chopping off everyone's heads. With such a life, not every nervous system can withstand...

However, crazy kings do not stay alive for long: when the nerves and patience of their subjects cannot stand, they get the insight that there is only _one_ king, and there are _many more_ of them - subjects. Someone will say that a crowd of unarmed peasants will not stand up to armed soldiers, no matter how evil and big the crowd is. But do not forget that the "unarmed peasants" in this case consist of subjects who may not wield a sword, but are accustomed to peacefully and legally wielding cleavers and stakes every day, compared to which a real sword looks like a hat pin. You must agree that "unarmed peasants" is not the most accurate description of a hefty butcher with a long hook in one hand and a carving knife in the other. And garden pitchforks also become a formidable weapon if thrown from above.

In general, the royals are not particularly enviable. Continuous intrigues, assassination attempts, discontent and, as a result, chronic lack of sleep and nervous breakdowns.

_No wonder the monarchy on Midgard is almost exhausted_ , Loki thought. If all of the above concerned the Asgardians and many other nations, much more persistent than humans, on Earth the royals must have died faster than they had time to wear out a couple of boots. Now, remembering all the "delights" of palace life, the trickster realized how stupid he behaved a few years ago. Apparently, it is true that some people, having gained strength and power, become stupid, considering that he was willing to spend so much effort to become a king. Meaning, Asgard, where the monarchs were treated perfectly while they remained in their minds, yes, but Midgard... Loki fully realized the absurdity of this idea after a short communication with the population of this very Midgard. Becoming the king of people like Stark, the Hulk, that wizard in a red cloak, or - it was scary to even think of it - Dana, and deal with them every day? Hell no! There were much more tempting prospects in this world. _Prison, for example. Or Jotunheim. Let's get at least the very same Ragnarok._

The trickster sighed. Yeah, let Thor be in charge of royal affairs - the god of thunder got the dog on not noticing all those royal "delights" that were happening under his nose during his life in the palace. Loki no longer sets his foot into the monarchy. Or a hand. Or anything else. Enough with him, it's time to take care of the nervous system.  
  


Life in the hotel, on the other hand, also included quite spacious rooms, the availability of a variety of food and drinks, and no less staff of service. But most importantly, here you could relax. And such an opportunity does not happen often. Therefore, Loki, unlike his neighbor, did not feel any eagerness to leave the hotel and go to explore the city or shop. In addition, Uinbjerg, like all Bluin in general, did not cause any delight in the trickster. Endless snows, forests, mountain slopes and in some places civilization meets - that's all the sights here. Too much this planet resembled Jotunheim (except for the part about forests and civilization), and he felt about his homeland about the same way that most people felt about passport desks, free clinics and utility bills.

Loki spent most of the day in his room, lying - or rather sinking - in a bed covered with a pile of thick blankets, reading books and other printed stoves for the fireplaces, and also sending the staff to the kitchen for tea every two hours. It was somewhat reminiscent of his imprisonment in Asgard, only now he was deprived of the need to contemplate his neighbors in misfortune. Here the walls were normal, that is, they had no hint of transparency. And in one of the walls there was a door through which one could exit at any time (although most often this door was used by a hotel employee, who had already managed to bring at least one and a half liters of tea into the room). If Loki deigns to leave the hotel, then, perhaps, only in order to redeem all supplies of this magnificent drink.

Thoughts of maybe the only trickster’s tasteful thing on this damn planet was interrupted by the sound of the door of the next room slamming and the following: “Settle down, sweetie, and throw the bags on the bed”. Dana is back. And, it seems, not alone.

Loki sighed doomedly. What the local walls did not differ, it is good sound insulation. He heard almost everything that was going on in the next room. Last night there was music and what could well go beyond the music, if you stretch this concept to the verge of its possible limits. Then there were sounds resembling the work of a small thermal jet engine (what it was and what it helped with remained a mystery for the trickster). Then again the music, but already louder. And then the door closed and came the long-awaited silence. Which has just come to an end.

"Shit, how many wires are there? It's crazy!"

"No more that in your flying piece of iron."

"Perfect thing to compare: an air transport and a bedroom!"

"What can I do, sweetie, when there is not a single socket in the bathroom! I had to dry my head sitting on the bed. What were the local designers thinking about?"

"Probably about how not to let the newcomers freeze to death and... Oh, the bar!"

"Life doesn't teach you anything at all, does it? You've just recently gotten a bit better!"

" And as soon as I empty that bottle of... what is written on it... I will have gotten a hell better!"

"If you vomit in my room, I'll get you to the hell myself."

Loki did not have the slightest desire to listen to this noise beyond the wall, and therefore put the book aside and, not without regret, left his room, heading for the elevator. Now was just the right time for dinner.

***

The first thing Thor did after his awakening was giving himself a promise to never again, under any circumstances, touch the Higilga. He always believed that the strongest booze is... or rather, was in Asgard in Odin's wine cellars, but it could not be compared with the liquid (or acid?) that he was served yesterday in the bar and which he unknowingly, out of stupidity (as, indeed, almost everything that he did in his life) drank in just few gulps. Thor's awakening was one of those moments when the stomach thinks for you and it decides: it would be nice to vomit. Only now there was nothing to vomit with, except that the internal organs, including the very same stomach.

The second thing he did was going outside in the hope that the cold air will help him recover faster. The idea was successful. The only thing, it was not so much the air that helped to recover, but the ball flying over it, which hit the thunder god right in the back of the head.

Turning around, Thor saw a small area, free of all kinds of buildings, where a group of boys stood. The average age in years was somewhere around eleven, as for the god of thunder. And if he knew the local punks a little better, he would also know that their average age in units of cynicism and cunning was about one hundred and seventy years. Harsh climate - harsh people. However, Thor did not just look at the world through pink glasses (recently, however, they had to be changed to a pink monocle), but also listened to it with pink ears and perceived it with a pink brain, and therefore saw the boys not as small robbers and growing up bandits, which they were for most of the residents of this courtyard, but as ordinary children, maybe a little gloomy, who went out to play.

_Loki and I used to play together too. That was fun_... Thor thought, smiling. However, in that time the two of them were the only ones who had fun. If children were weapons, him and Loki would be banned by an international convention. Odin was busy almost all the time, Frigga in the hands of the children was turning into pliable wax, and if Loki could still be told something, then the duration of Thor's attention was minus a few seconds, except when it came to fights or penetrations into the armory warehouses of the palace - that's when he could be extremely attentive and patient. The rules established by numerous governesses existed only conditionally. Thor did not just break them - he did not leave a single piece from the rules, and Loki, who even as a child already possessed the cunning of a millennial, always found a bunch of loopholes that allowed him to break the rules without actually breaking them, and thus avoid punishment. This extended to both home teachers and teachers in the magic school. However, the teachers there, having extensive experience of working with children of all statuses, characters and ages, very quickly realized that the phrase "No one is allowed to open the closet with magic accessories" is not always an understandable prohibition for children. The prohibition should be carefully thought over and paraphrased, using a clearer wording, for example: "No one, Loki, no matter what, even if someone thought that he heard cries for help, no one, Loki, do you understand me, is allowed to open the door of the closet with magical accessories, or accidentally fall on the handle so that this door opened, or promise to turn the favorite sword of Thor into a snake, if he does not open the door, or stand next to the closet and wait for the mysterious wind to suddenly blow out of nowhere and open the door of the closet, honestly-honestly-that-is-exactly-what-happened, and no one - it means absolutely no one is allowed to open, become the cause of the opening, ask someone to open, to jump on the floorboards so that the closet opened, or in some other way try to get into the closet with magical accessories, did you understand that all, Loki?!"

Memories of childhood distracted Thor from the real life, and he did not immediately notice that one of the boys separated from the group and unhappily drills him with big blue eyes.

"Hey, will you return the ball?" the preteenager finally spoke up.

"Huh?" it took Thor a few seconds to get back to normal. "Oh, yes, of course. Here. What are you playing?"

"Snow football."

"Why here?" Thor scanned his surroundings. These were the outskirts of the city, very close to the tall blue trees, which in some places grew so closely to each other that even a slender a child could hardly squeeze between them. "Not a very safe place for the guys, as for me."

"But with the playground," the boy shook the preceding. "It's not easy to find a spacious flat area here fore actually _playing_ the ball rather than _chasing_ it. And about safety, the main thing is to escape before it gets dark."

"Yes, you can freeze all your limbs at night."

From somewhere on the side of the impenetrable blue thicket there was a low howls.  
  


“And that's in the best case,” the guy added.

The boys who remained on the site, as if on command, went to the backpacks lying in the snow.  
  


"Are they wolves?" Thor asked.  
  


“If by wolves you mean big, angry, toothy creatures that can easily bite through your skull, then yes, they are definitely them,” the preteen replied. "Although we call them bergs. Don't worry, at the moment, not a single case of an unprovoked attack by a berg on a person has been officially registered."

The next howl was heard more clearly. Either the bergs howled louder, or they were closer.

"And in order not to spoil this wonderful statistics, I suggest that we go home," another boy interjected into the conversation. The guys were slowly but surely moving further from the forest and closer to civilization.

"I agree," the boy with the ball nodded and was about to set off after the others, when he suddenly slowed down and turned to Thor. "You, um... you can come, you know, if anything. We usually get together here at noon."

The thunder god, in whose ass childhood has started playing again, smiled broadly and saluted.

"Sure!"

***

There were much more people at dinner than at breakfast, and everyone, as luck would have it, wanted to chat, laugh, and a couple of tipsy guests were even drawn to sing, and this was despite the fact that there was already live music here. Loki, trying to ignore the noise, scrutinized those present, trying to determine the species and - damn habit - the possible threat. Most of the visitors, judging by external data, were the indigenous population of, if not Uinbjerg, then Bluin as a whole. There were also a couple of families with pink complexion. In fact, the color scheme was the most notable of those few distinguishing factors. For some reason, most of the alien lifeforms were not very different from each other, if you do not take into account the color of the hair, eyes and skin tone. Interesting, isn't it?

Having seen enough of the various sources of noise, Loki turned his attention to the reason that made him originally come here - to dinner. Apparently, the attitude to food in Uinbjerg was the same as in Asgard, the unspoken motto of which was: "Vitamins are nothing, calories are everything." Only if salads were sometimes found in Asgard, then Bluin, most of whose flora was represented by huge blue pines, delighted visitors with a huge selection of meat, fish and poultry. In general, vegetarianism would obviously not stand the tiniest chance here.

The trickster began to think again, and these thoughts were again about the future. Earthly products. Finding suitable territory for the new Asgard is half the trouble. There will be no particular problems with construction work, given that there is enough labor force (more or less qualified), and the materials will just need to be purchased. Food, on the other hand, was a more complex issue. Unlike the nearly flat Asgard, the Earth was round and had several different climatic zones, each with a different flora and fauna. Loki did not know the details of what were where. He also did not know the peculiarities of earthly trade relations. About political relations (and they matter a lot in any way), he did not even stutter.

_If come to think of it, none of us really know anything about Earth,_ he suddenly realized. _All our knowledge boils down to the fact that the local population is called humans, these humans live no longer than a hundred years, outwardly similar to us and that they do not represent danger for us, the Asgardians, and therefore we should not pay special attention to them. That, basically, is all that Asgard knows about Midgard. Well, and recently it is still known that humans have acquired so called Save-the-world team. No specific or useful information_.

This made Loki think again about whether it was really a good idea to choose Earth as their new home, given the fact that none of them really knew anything about it. However, if we continue to think in this direction, the only worlds about which the Asgardians had more or less complex view were Vanahheim and Jotunheim. The first - because it was Asgard's closest ally. The second - because it was Asgard's closest enemy. And because Jotunheim was considered an enemy, the Asgardians knew about it even more than about Vanahheim. However, of course, neither in Vanahheim nor, even more so, in Jotunheim, none of them will be trampled upon. First, no one knew the road to Vanahheim, because everyone always used the services of Heimdall and Bifrost. And secondly, even if by some miracle they get to Vanaheim, its resources simply will not be enough for the normal provision of both the Vans and the Asgardians. In addition, both peoples were avid monarchists, and two kings for one world... And why Jotunheim is not considered an option, it was not even worth talking about.

As a result, what remains is Midgard with its vast territory and people who, after a series of certain events, are no longer particularly surprised by anything.

_And what also remains is a hell of a lot of unknown information and a hell of a little time to study it_ , added the trickster to himself. _I wonder if Thor ever thought about this at all when he was going through the options? Silly question, of course not. I' doubt he even considered other options besides his beloved Midgard_ , sometimes Loki wondered how his older brother even managed to live so long, being direct, honest, benevolent and noble in all his actions, because in the real world such behavior is considered stupid, and the survival rate of such idviduums was no higher than that of a three-legged hedgehog that jumped out onto a six-lane Autobahn. However, then the trickster recalled a couple of other qualities of his brother, and the question disappeared by itself. One of these qualities was the right-hand hook, which even the Hulk learned to respect. In addition, Thor, like Dana, possessed a certain charisma, but if in the case of a bitchy woman this charisma boiled down to incredible sexual attractiveness, then the thunder god seemed to charm people. He sincerely believed that there is a particle of goodness in everyone, and to disappoint him in this was like kicking a puppy. _As a naïve child, so he remained. Only now he has a crown on his head_.

Loki came to the conclusion that if the Asgardians can delve into the peculiarities of life on Earth after arrival, then he and Thor need to learn the basics right now in order to know what to do. In any other situation, the trickster would have gathered some supplies and camped in the palace library, which he would not leave until he found the answers to all the questions needed. Only there was no library on the ship. Of course, in some rooms there were some books, but none of them contained a single word about the Earth. In the local network - he checked - there was a lot of information about many planets and peoples, however, given the "closed nature" of Midgard, he is unlikely to be able to find the necessary information in the Bluin's network or any other planet's.

So, there were only two sources of information: the safe one and the bitchy one. And given that the safe source was now temporarily unavailable due to sudden greening, there was only one option left. And oh, just how much trickster didn't like it...

Loki was distracted from further thoughts by some changes in the general atmosphere. Firstly, some suddenly stopped chatting and stared somewhere in the direction of the door. Secondly, someone whistled. The god of lies followed their gaze.

_Speak of the devil_... thought the trickster, looking at the "bitchy source of information." His gaze slid from the face a little lower, and he immediately regretted it. From yesterday's outfit of Dana the only thing that survived were suede boots. Jeans were replaced by a short black skirt, and a sweater - by a blouse of the same color. Moreover, the last one was clearly lacking buttons on its top. The clothes themselves could not be called ‎obscene, but on Dana they looked exactly that way. On this woman, even a monk's attire would have looked the height of obscenity.

Dana settled down behind the bar, crossing her barely covered tanned legs and thereby causing a wave of sighs, especially among the local population, for whom mini-skirts existed if only in fantasies. Loki saw her lips move, and the bartender, taking his eyes off the neckline of her blouse, fiddled a little at his workplace and put a large cup in front of the woman with something hot, apparently, inside of it and then put a plate of cookies sprinkled with powder next to it. Dana dipped the cookie into the cup and put it in her mouth. And then she began to lick the rest of the powder from her fingers.

The trickster again felt like he was on the balcony, unable to look away. However, he was not alone here. All attention in the hall was now riveted on Dana. What struck her most was... everything. Absolutely everything, Loki suddenly realized. From facial expressions to posture. If the trickster knew how to appear effectively, then this woman knew how to effectively present. So effectively that everything else was lost on her background.

Not wanting to give the woman another "victory", Loki closed his eyes and turned away. However, his imagination, which recently began to lead an independent life, did not have eyelids, and therefore it stared for nothing. However, there was no need to even imagine too much, it was enough just to remember yesterday's evening on the balcony. And now, the memory was helpfully sending the imagination images of a naked, swarthy body with seductive roundness and shiny hair. And the imagination, in turn, added additional effects to this erotic show, such as new scenery and soundtrack, accelerating the pulse and forcing the blood to rush where the trickster did not want it to rush.

"Why are you so red?" a familiar female voice sounded in front of him. "Got drunk?"

Loki opened his eyes and looked discontentedly at the Valkyrie that had sit near him. She, fortunately, was in no hurry to change her ammunition to some depraved outfits.

"No," he answered shortly and, getting up from the table, went to the exit. "See you later."

All the way to his number, Loki was making incredible efforts to hold his own imagination and memory in place. Never before in his long life had it been so difficult for him. The trickster has always prided himself on his self-control and the ability to be friends with his own head (one of the rarest kind of friendship, by the way). And now everything was going to hell. And all because of some impudent bitchy pest...

_Damn this woman_ , he thought for the umpteenth time in a day, falling on the bed. _Damn her_...


	14. Cake by the ocean

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, my request for feedbacks remains the same. There was 1 more comment, and I'm really happy about that, but let's not stop at this ;)

Dana was in one of her favorite places - in the center of everyone's attention - and was happy. She felt dozens of eyes on herself, inhaled the smell of pheromones, listened to subtle languid sighs and did not even try to hide a smug smirk. For all the time that the woman spent on the spaceship, she has already managed to forget what it is like when you are literally devoured with a look, while being mentally undressed.

An incident on the balcony popped up in her head, but Dana immediately pushed the thought away. That case doesn't count. It was unlikely that the trickster then undressed her with his eyes: she was already wearing what her mother gave birth to.

The woman raised a cup of hot milk to her lips and sipped a drink, glancing across the hall, mentally noting the pretty faces. With one - or a couple - of them, she intended to have some good fun tonight.

"Choosing a victim?" the Valkyrie sat down on the bar stool next to her. After one hand gesture and thirty seconds in front of her, a large mug with a frothy light brown drink appeared. 

"A victim?" Dana arched an eyebrow. “Rather, a partner for tonight. Or partners."

"Yeah, your libido can be calmed down only by a direct hit of a meteorite," muttered Brunnhilde, taking a long sip of alcohol. "And I'm not sure even about that."

"And yours, apparently, has long been dead, inveterate and buried," the brown-haired woman looked with displeasure at the mug in her friend's hands. "You do understand that you still have to return to your hotel, which is more than a stone's throw from here, don't you? Of course, I know that drunkenness is your natural state and that you never get used to walking, crawling or navigating a ship while being in such a shitty state, but in this city there is knee-deep snow - chin-deep snowdrifts - and where there is no snow, there is ice, and the visibility is so-so..."

"I was actually hoping to sleep in your room today," the Valkyrie interrupted her.

"And I actually hoped today _not_ to sleep in my room, but to do something more interesting," answered her friend. “And my experience of friendship with you suggests that you are unlikely to keep me company in such activities."

"Your experience suggests correctly,” the Valkyrie took another sip and suddenly frowned in puzzlement. "Since when do you take your partners to your place?"

"Firstly, this is a hotel number, not my place. And secondly, since the trickster, well known to both of us, lives in the next room."

Brunnhilde choked on her alcohol and coughed. When the attack passed, she raised her head and stared at her friend with round eyes in surprise.

"Have you settled nearby?" the brown-haired woman silently nodded, chewing cookies. "What the... How d... Why? I mean, you can hardly put up with each other, why settle in the neighborhood?"

"It happened accidently."

"Then why don't you just change you room?"

" _Me?_ " Dana looked at her friend as if she were insane. "So, you're saying, it's _me_ who must adapt to _him_? Dream on, sweetie. I was the first to settle there. If anyone moves, it is him."

"Is that why you're going to lead the boy - or the girl - to your place?" Brunnhilde asked. "To make him move out?"

"Perhaps."

"You do understand he will remember it to you, don't you?"  
  


“It won't be necessary,” Dana took another sip of milk. "All the sex in which I take part is unforgettable. And after more than a week of abstinence, all the more... So, I certainly won't need any reminders."

"That's not what I meant, and you know it."

The woman just grinned and threw the last cookie into her mouth, immediately licking her fingers soiled with powder. An indignant: "Hey!" was heard from the side. That was the bartender who, being captured by the view, poured two hundred milliliters of Higilga into a glass of only a hundred milliliters. Clear liquid, of course, poured onto the counter. After about ten seconds, there was a hiss. That was Higilga which got to the teaspoon and entered into a reaction (or rather, into a duel) with the metal. The winner was obvious.

Brunnhilde looked at her best friend with displeasure. The smirk on Dana's face grew even more self-satisfied. She felt the way they were looking at her, sensed with her sharp smell what chemical reaction she causes to the majority of those present, and if she now says that this does not bother her at all, then this will be, perhaps, her biggest lie. Dana loved to be in the center of attention, loved when she was listened to, when she was desired, and she loved the level she was able to achieve in the art of achieving all of the above. She always suspected that the ability to seduce was given to her so easily, because from the very childhood in her arsenal there were many various tricks with which she tried to attract the attention of her relatives.

And none of them worked.  
  


Her brother, however, did not have to invent anything or make any effort. For him they always had time. And love.

"Dana?" there were restless notes in Brunnhilde's voice.

"Hmm?" the woman immediately returned from the world of dreams to reality.

"Is everything alright? It seemed like... like you left this world."

"If I did, then my body would have left it as well. I'm telling you this as the one who really left this world, and the other one, and another...

"Understood, no need to continue," the Valkyrie interrupted her. “Again, this is not what I meant, and, again, you know it."

They both fell silent for a while. The Asgardian woman silently drank the Bluin's equivalent of earth beer, while Dana finished her milk. Both the smug smirk and high spirits were gone.  
  


When the drinks ran out and they both had nothing more to occupy their mouths with, the brown-haired woman decided to break the silence.

"Do you still want to get drunk?"

To say that Brunnhilde was surprised is to say nothing. Her friend did not tolerate alcohol very well, and although she could safely accommodate several liters of booze in her body, a couple of bottles even of not the strongest liquor were enough to get her completely drunk. No, of course, she and Dana had drunken parties more than once, but the brown-haired woman drank more for company or on some special occasion, such as a holiday, funeral, wedding, divorce, and so on. Moreover, Dana was never the initiator of drinking.

"I always do,” the Valkyrie replied, stopping further speculation about possible reasons. If her best friend wants to get drunk, she will gladly accompany her. Brunnhilde in any way did not enjoy sober state since the very day when the regiment of Valkyries turned into a mountain of corpses, why should she stop now?

"Let's go, then,” the woman jumped off the high chair, straightened her skirt and walked from her hip to the exit under admiring glances and sighs.

Brunnhilde hurried after her. If she was upset that she did not receive the same ardent attention as her friend, then she did not show it.

"But what about the plan "Get rid of a neighbor with loud sex"?" she asked, equating with Dana.  
  


“I’ll save it in case the plan "Get rid of the neighbor with loud booze” does not work,” the woman replied, and the corners of her lips slightly lifted again. "Besides, I cannot allow you, while being drunk and all alone, to go to the other end of the city, especially at night, can I?"

"Not long ago you didn't care much about that..." Brunnhilde muttered under her breath barely audibly.  
  


Dana pretended not to hear. Brunnhilde pretended to believe so. Of all the people, she knew very well that her friend's keen ears caught and made out every single sound.

***

Loki was sleeping and, to his great fortune, he was sleeping dreamlessly. Unfortunately, this dream did not differ in duration.

And all because in the room next room what began as a harmless friendly drinking binge, smoothly, but rather quickly, slid down the slope towards the "chaos" stage, after which it fell right into the abyss called "complete fuck" and, in the end, struck the bottom in it.

How the trickster managed to sleep through the first two stages remained a mystery to him. However, something told him that he succeeded in this miracle thanks to that incredible speed with which stage number two grew into stage number three.

_Damn this_ … Loki listened attentively… no, it was unnecessary to listen attentively in this situation, he just heard another familiar voice and hastened to correct the thought that came up more and more every day, _… these women. Why the hell can't they sleep, these two damned beasts? Scums_... "

"These women", to whom the trickster in his mind continued to ascribe obscene, but extremely colorful expressions, which described in detail the outstanding features of their inner world and character, as well as some assumptions about the species of their relatives... in general, "these women" obviously drank everything that was in the maxi-bar, because Loki could not imagine any sober creature that could be the source of the sounds that were coming from the next room.

"Talk to me, baby... sing along, swee-hic-tie... I'm going blind from... hic... this sweet-sweet craving..."

"Whoa-oh!"

"Let's lose our minds and go... hic... fucking crazy!"

"Ah ya ya... Ay, fuck. wires!"

"You should look under your feet... hic... cake by the ocean!"

"Walk for me, baby... uh, shit, don'trememberwhat'snext..."

"Oh, fu... hic... that, justsingsomething... and go fucking crazy!"

"Ah ya ya ya ya."

"I keep on hop... hic... We'll eat cake by the ocean!"

"Red velvet, vanilla... shit, I'm gonna vomit now..."

"Not... hic... on my carpet! Chocolate in my life!"

"You missed a line... oh shit..."

"Told you... hic... not to mix the drinks. Now... hic... torture yourself."

"And as for me... it's not the variety of drinks, but the fact that we... dance too much..."

"Come on... hic... we dance just fine! Don't you go selling me... hic... better move your hips... I keep on hop... hic... 'll eat cake by the ocean!

"Stop spinning... it's getting me carsick... I can't stand this your... mamba..."

"Samba. And this is ch... hic... dance! Let's lose our minds and go fuck... hic... crazy."

"Did this song go on the second round?"

"No... hic... already on the third."

"Goddamn..."

"See you licking frost... hic... from your own ha..."

"Shut up already, you there!" one of the neighbors could not resist. Apparently, he was from the room on the floor above.

Loki groaned mentally.

_Shit... Who the hell was pulling you by the tongue?_ the trickster addressed the man in his thoughts. _This bitchy malevolent will not shut up now in principle, just to spite you - and all of us too. Couldn't you just wait a bit, you dull creature_?

Loki totally called it. The music stopped abruptly. But for only a few seconds, then it played again, only this time twice as loud. Those few seconds, apparently, were needed to switch one song to another and rewind a little forward, so that, as the trickster guessed, to give the neighbor upstairs (as well as everyone else in the neighborhood with a more or less normal hearing) an understandable answer.

Fuck you (Fuck you), fuck you very, very much  
'Cause we hate what you do  
And we hate your whole crew  
So, please don't stay in touch

Then two drunken voices joined the soloist, which, if sometimes did hit the notes, then only by pure chance. Loki was glad that the upstairs neighbor was understanding and decided not to risk another attempt to shut up noisy friends. The smartest option in this situation would be to just wait. The nights on this planet, as the trickster had already made sure, were much longer than usual, so he would have time to sleep well. These two drunks will not last until morning, not at such a pace.

Loki tried to abstract himself from the noise (in this matter he has become quite adept lately, and if everything continues to develop this way, then by the end of their journey, he will be able to give a head start to Heimdall with his equanimity) and played in his head some of those great booze... that is, great palace fests that used to be held in Asgard. He did not dwell on the part where long speeches were made, as well as small talks and attempts to move up the social and career ladder (even if the attempt was successful, this did not make the fest any worse: on the contrary, there appeared a couple more reasons to raise a toast), and immediately rewound the tape to the place where all the guests were in about the same state in which the Valkyrie and her bitchy friend were now.

So, the trickster recalled, Thor usually stayed in this state for three or four hours, after which he fell asleep face down in a plate “carefully” slipped under him by his younger brother. This means that Loki had to endure all this noise at most for several hours, after which the drunken women behind the wall would fall asleep in drunken sleep, and at his disposal there would still be about eight hours before the morning. And in the morning...

_In the morning there will be a surprise for someone,_ thought the trickster, smiling. Those who have already seen this smile on his face would rather quickly hide in some safe place: in a neighboring galaxy, for example. _Let's see if you have as much fun tomorrow as you have now_.

***

The morning for Brunnhilde came somewhere closer to lunch-time, as well as the previous one. She felt terrible. As in the previous "morning", again. Today's hangover, of course, was not as bad as the one after Higiliga (even the Valkyrie with her body hardened by hundreds of years of alco-trainers did not dare to drink this liquid two days in a row), but on this its pleasant features ended. The head was buzzing, throbbing and felt as if it was full of cotton wool. The throat was gutted. She was really thirsty. Even the tongue seemed dry. Eyes... or rather one eye, when it was finally opened, looked at the world as if through a sweaty glass.

Usually, after awakenings like these, the first thing people say to themselves is: "I will never drink again." However, Brunnhilde knew herself far too well to claim such things.  
  


She closed her eyes and tried to decide what she wanted more: to fall asleep, thereby delighting her aching eyes and head, or to drink, thereby relieving the suffering of her throat. She had no desire to leave the soft bed, but the dryness in the throat was persistent. With an agonizing groan, the Valkyrie tried to force herself to get up. The bed was warm, even hot. And it wasn't thanks to the quality of the blankets. Brunnhilde listened to the deep, even breathing behind her. Dana was better than any heating pad.

Somehow getting out from under the blanket, the Valkyrie got to her feet with a little uncertainly and, without opening her eyes, tried to get to the bathroom with the help of only her memory and touch. A couple of times, she nearly screwed up, catching on a bunch of wires from the chargers, but still reached the goal. Groping for the sink, the Valkyrie turned on the tap, scooped up water in her palm and took a couple of sips. She had to do this simple procedure five times before her tongue came back to life and her throat was no longer desert-like.

When the thirst was quenched, the Valkyrie again scooped up water with her hands and washed her face a couple of times, hoping to drive away drowsiness. Then she reached for the towel. Wiped her face. Opened her eyes. Looked in the mirror. Closed her eyes. Opened them again. Looked at her reflection again. And screamed.

"What the hell?!"

Not that the reflection in the mirror was unfamiliar. Oh no, quite the opposite, actually, it was very familiar, one might even say, almost native. The Valkyrie knew well everything: this thick dark hair, and these neat eyebrows, and this swarthy skin, and these beautiful lips, and these rather attractive facial features, and especially these large golden eyes with an oblong pupil. From the mirror, Dana's face looked at her, taking on a shock expression she had never seen on this face before.

"What the hell..." said the Valkyrie more quietly this time, and suddenly realized that her voice had become deeper. And it was not due to her state.

She took a few steps back, not taking her eyes off the mirror. From there, Dana was still looking at her, clearly now she could make out a crumpled and half-open black blouse. The Valkyrie stared in shock at her... the hands. The skin was a bit lighter and the nails were longer. She looked down and found, in addition to the black blouse, that her breasts had noticeably increased.

_It can't be_ … Brunnhilde closed her eyes in despair and pinched herself, but when she opened her eyes, nothing changed. _It can't be happening in real_ …

"M-m-m... the fuck did you make such a fuss that early in the morning…” came a displeased hoarse voice, whose owner, apparently, was heading for the bathroom.

Asgardian immediately jumped to the door, opened it and almost collided with her forehead... with herself. In front of the Valkyrie, sleepily rubbing her eyes stood herself.  
  


She couldn't think of anything better than to scream again.

***

Meanwhile, in the room next door, Loki had never been so happy to wake up to the sound of a woman screaming. He stretched lazily and took a sitting position. A smug smile shone on his face.

_It seems the spell did not dissipate during the sleep_ , he thought, not without joy. _Perfect_.

When the scream rang out again, the trickster's smile widened. It has been the best morning in the last few days, even if lunch was already approaching.


	15. Life and Death

To cope with the morning panic and finally stop yelling, the Valkyrie took about seven minutes, during which Dana had time to take a shower (“take a shower” includes: washing off yesterday's cosmetics, washing face, brushing teeth, washing her head and body; all procedures are made at the same time, so it is very important not to get confused in numerous jars and tubes), take headache pills and activated charcoal from the table, which she, fortunately, had found in her bag _before_ the booze began, and was now busy with trying to figure out how many pills should be given to the Valkyrie, given that her body is many times superior to that of an ordinary person and of Dana herself.

_I think two packs will be enough_ , the woman decided and began to unpack the pills, folding them up a hill. It was better not to look at the date of manufacture of these medicines. _So-o, now all is needed is something to wash it all down with... preferably something that does not corrode your stomach. Seriously, the local booze can be used instead of ammonia: it is not inferior either in smell or in strength. Even surpasses_. 

Taking a bottle of milk out of the fridge and grabbing a glass from the shelf, Dana sat down on the sofa next to her friend who had been crazy since the morning. She poured milk into a glass, thrust it into the Valkyrie’s hands, and nodded toward the pills.

"Take these. It's for you," Dana herself treated medicines like any cat: that is, she could not stand them at all. Therefore, she preferred to wash down her hangover with the remaining milk in the bottle. About half a liter remained there. However, these half a liter dried up very quickly: Dana destroyed dairy products with the same speed with which Brunnhilde did alcohol. "Of course, I understand that a hangover now is the last thing that worries you, but nevertheless, the pills will not make you worse,'' remembering _when_ she threw these medicines into the bag, the woman hastened to add: "At least, I hope on this."

"Right now, I’m worried about two things,” Brunnhilde began, tossing a handful of pills in her mouth and drinking them milk. Having swallowed, the Valkyrie grimaced: she did not like milk since very childhood. "First, why do you need medicines in your bag if you never take them anyway? And second, why the hell are you so calm?"

"I don’t carry medicines for myself. Specifically, these pills ended up in my bag because the class teacher has to celebrate graduation with the students. When I saw how much booze they had packed with them, I immediately realized that the night would be fun. Plus, graduation was on the ferry, so if you - all of a sudden - get sick, I still have loads of nausea and motion sickness pills. In short, a horde of alcoholic Red Ribbons was then under my responsibility, so I took various medicines with me just in case. Rather, just in case **s**."

"Well, that explains where you got twenty packs from. But you know, the second question, perhaps, still worries me more."

"You are worried about my calmness?"

"Exactly," the Asgardian nodded. "Shock or at least surprise were not even expected: I doubt that you at least remember what they feel like. Panic neither."

"Stop listing what you didn't expect to see," the brown-haired woman said. "Closer to the point."

"Patience is not your strong point either," the Valkyrie murmured, and immediately received a disgruntled look. "That's what I expected of you. Indignation. Anger. I thought you were going to start tearing and throwing."

"Why would I?"

"Are you serious? Dana, we exchanged our bodies! Doesn't it bother you at all?"

Dana rolled her eyes. Brunnhilde was not a stupid woman, but honestly, sometimes she was openly dumb. Just like now. It was definitely time for her friend to quit drinking: alcohol, it seems, decided to leave alone the nervous system and began to destroy her brain. Although, coming to remember what kind of panic the Valkyrie fell into this morning, she no longer had any nervous system at all.

"Let's start with the fact that you and I didn't exchange bodies,” Dana finally said. "You are you, I am me. And we are both here and now. So, as you can see, everything's okay. Well, mostly."

"But…” the Valkyrie looked down again. Her skin was still lighter, her breasts were still larger, and the same black blouse covered her breasts. Brunnhilde pinched herself again, but everything was still wrong. "But, Dana, I now look like you, and you - like me."

"Yep, exactly."

"You and I have somehow exchanged..."

"Why are you stuck on the body-exchange!" Dana interrupted her. "We just clarified the situation."

Brunnhilde stared at her like a student at an unlearned ticket. Or like a chemistry student who suddenly found "philosophy" on his schedule.

"Really?" the woman asked in the voice of a geography teacher, who suddenly discovered that some students needed to be explained where the compass is north and where is south. "Yeah, sweetie, your Asgardian kinsmen clearly have a bad influence on you. So be it, I'll try to explain it again. How did you feel when you woke up?"

"You were about to explain, not asking, weren't you?"

"This will make it easier for you to understand. Answer the question. How did you feel when you woke up?"

"I felt shitty," answered the Valkyrie.

"Be more specific."

"My head cracks, my eyes hurt, so does the throat, my mouth feels like a desert, I am sleepy and thirsty, but while deciding what of these two I want more, my bladder also comes into the game... in short, I felt the way I usually feel after a big booze..."

"When did you feel that you were, shall we say, "in a different body"?"

"When I saw my reflection in the mirror."

"So, you're saying that you looked in the mirror and felt like you were in someone else's body?" Dana replied. "What was that feeling like? As if you were wearing unusually narrow clothes?"

"I wouldn't say... This was... I wouldn't call it a feeling. I just looked in the mirror, then I looked at myself to check if I was hallucinating. I even pinched myself. Nothing has changed, so I realized that everything was real."

"Didn't feel anything out of the ordinary, then? Wow. It's truly amazing how well and quickly you've adapted to life in "my" body, which is so different from yours."

"We're not that different," Valkyrie said displeased. She didn't like her friend's tone at all. It made her feel like an unthinking child. "I mean, okay, skin, hair, face, eyes... Um, curves... but we're the same height, we both have two arms, two legs, one head and one and the same insides."

"Oh yes, and we both have very sharp hearing, sense of smell, eyes with increased sensitivity to light and no less sensitive skin," Dana added, without even trying to hide the mocking notes. "That's why I, even being in "your" body, can hear so well how the maid swears in the room upstairs, hear this annoying high-frequency squeak every time the doors of the elevator open, and hardly wince from the smell of alcohol. Oh, how could I possible forget what similar structure of an organism do you and I have?" when the woman saw her friend's awkwardness, she softened herself a little. "Trust me, sweetie, if you really were in my body, you wouldn't need a mirror to understand that."

"Then what happened?"

"An illusion. You were right, you look like me now, and I look like you. _Look_ , understand? You're not me in any sense, you just look like that. Your consciousness, your soul, everything remains where it was yesterday. And what you see now, looking at us, is nothing more than an illusion," Dana explained, adding to herself: _A very artificial illusion, however. I didn't even feel him putting it on. Though, I drank so much yesterday that I would hardly even feel a blow to the head_.

"Illusion?" asked Brunnhilde. "But don't they disappear when you touch them?"

"Not all of them," the brown-haired woman answered and settled down more comfortably. The Valkyrie, noticing this, immediately realized that another lecture was coming. “You see, sweetie, illusions differ. Those that are distorted or even disappear altogether, as soon as you touch them, are most often mirages. These are optical illusions created, let's say, "out of thin air." This is the very first level. What is usually started with. Of course, mirages are also different: some just stand still, others can move, and through high-level mirages, you can even transmit messages or observe the world. But mirages, whatever the level of complexity they are, remain immaterial. They cannot be touched by anything, and they, in turn, cannot touch anything."

"But..." the Valkyrie wanted to say that she could touch "herself" rather well, but her friend immediately honored her with a Look. It was the same Look, with a capital letter, which Dana usually gave those who interrupted her or in some other way caused her displeasure, and the fact that right now she was not looking quite like Dana did not soften the Look in the least. It was not threatening (at least not too much), rather intense - you suddenly feel that the woman has paid _absolutely all_ her attention to you. It worked even better than sharp claws and threats. You wouldn't want to feel the Look twice on you. Though, you would not want to feel it even once. Realizing her mistake, Brunnhilde muttered softly: “Sorry. Please continue."

"So," the capital "L" disappeared from the Look, and Dana's attention again spread more or less evenly, "after the mirages there are more persistent illusions. And they are more persistent because they are superimposed over something. Of course, they also come in different difficulty levels. It is easier to impose an illusion on a stationary object than on one that is moving. The main difference between such an illusion and a mirage is that it does not dissipate after you touch it. Low-quality, of course, can be distorted, but those that have been made conscientiously show very... impressive results. As you, however, already managed to see for yourself," discovering that her friend continues to stare at her in silence, Dana made a vague hand gesture. "Now you can ask questions."

"That is what all this is,” the Valkyrie ran her hands over “her” new forms, “just an illusion superimposed over of my body?”

"Exactly."

"And what about the voice?"

"An illusion as well."

"But how? I mean… you can’t see it or touch it. How can you impose an illusion on something immaterial?"

"Sweetie, there are different kinds of illusions. Just like... I guess hallucinations would be the best comparison. Hallucinations can be visual, auditory, olfactory, gustatory, tactile, enteroceptive, vestibular, and motor. It is the same with illusions. The last three, by the way, are the most difficult, because you need to... influence from the inside, shall we say, ”Dana explained. "Your voice, just like your body, has not changed: an illusion was was simply imposed on it as well, only not visual one, but auditory. He did a similar job with your tactile senses," the woman sighed. “This damn trickster worked pretty hard."

"Was it Loki?"

"Do you know anyone else who owns magic?""

"You," Brunnhilde immediately replied, though she understood that her friend had nothing to do with what was happening. However, her mocking tone was pushing her buttons, provoking the Asgardian to speak first, and then to think.

"First of all, I wouldn't do that, and you know it very well," the brown-haired woman said. "And secondly, I wouldn't _be able to_ do that even if I wanted to. Illusions aren't really my thing."

"However, you know a lot about them."

"Theory and practice, sweetie, are two different things. I am very well versed in magic as such, but that does not mean that I can practice... _all_ the magic, you understand?"

"Um , I think so?" Brunnhilde said insecurely. She herself did not understand magic at all, as, indeed, most Valkyries. She was a warrior, not a magician, and throughout her long life she managed to create just one single illusion: at the very beginning of her military career, when she was non-stopped shouted by senior Valkyries, when she was forced for years to practice blows on mannequins filled with iron sand, she managed to believe that all people are made of this very sand. This illusion lasted until her first fight. Her _real_ fight. Then she remembered again that all people, both friends and foes, were made of flesh and blood, and that both were very easily cut. Military science, unlike the magic, had no levels of complexity: its main - and only - goal was to make you a person ready on the orders to stab the sword into some poor fellow, who, as it happened, dressed in an enemy uniform. He's just like you, and you're just like him. He doesn't really want to kill you, and you don't really want to kill him. But if you don't kill him first, he will kill you. When there is steel and flesh, be the one holding the steel. This is the beginning and end of military science. You kill the enemy so he doesn't kill your friends, who in turn will one day save you.

Remembering the end of her military career, the Valkyrie struggled to suppress the desire to refill the glass, only this time not with milk, but with Higilga. _Then_ _Hela survived, and all my friends died. Now Hela is dead, but that hasn't changed anything. She's dead, yes. But so are they_ , she thought. Every time she remembered her fighting friends... not even friends - her sisters, she was overwhelmed by incredible anger. From this anger, she wanted to snap, crackle and pop, and Brunnhilde probably would have done so, only that anger could not be compared with all the grief that came with her. The red shroud of rage was covered with a gray shroud of sorrow, and when the Valkyrie looked at the world through those dirty brown lenses, it seemed so... ugly. Cruel. Unfair. Terrible. It was much better to look at such a world through the bottom of the bottle.

"... you don't hear a single word of what I'm saying to you, do you?"

"What?" the dissatisfied voice of a friend, which now sounded like her own because of a certain trickster, brought Brunnhilde out of her memories. "Sorry, I wasn't really listening. What did you say?"

"Many things," Dana replied, extremely dissatisfied with the fact that she was asked (albeit indirectly) to tell something, and then ignored. "If you are not interested, you could have told right away. My throat is now not in the right condition for repeating the same thing several times."

The Valkyrie was about to say something, like: "It has been in this state for at least thirty years," but changed her mind. After all, she did gave her friend a signal with all her intonation: “I, of course, understand - I'm not a complete fool, after all - but still, could you, please, explain it again? Just in case."

"I'm sorry. Can you please repeat once more? I was just... thinking."

"Thinking, you say..." Dana narrowed her eyes slightly. "Are you sure you were thinking, and not bumping into extremely unpleasant memories of your murdered sisters in arms?”

"You're such an asshole," Brunnhilde said benignly. For the woman opposite to her, the concept of "delicate" existed only in the form of a laundry regime.

"I've been called worse," the woman shrugged.

"I bet you've been."

"I already told you this before, and I am telling you now: they are dead. And that's normal. Every living being one day dies: someone earlier, someone later, but the end is already known at the very moment this “someone” becomes alive," Dana moved closer and took the Valkyrie by the hand. "This is how the world works, sweetie: a certain amount of time is meted out to each creature, and the less time it has, the more it values it. If people didn't die, they wouldn't live. If they didn’t live, they couldn’t change. And those who cannot change cannot learn. Thus, if there were no death, the world would simply... stopped."

"Movement is life,” Brunnhilde recalled an old adage. Grief and anger at the world were slowly relegated to the background.

"And life is movement," finished the adage Dana. “And you should also move on. Yes, the Valkyries were dear to you, very dear, but their time in this world is over. But yours is not yet. But it can be. At any moment. And how to spend the rest of this time, of course, is your own business, but in my opinion, grieving and getting angry at the world, drinking along the way in the hope of forgetting the reasons for these very grief and anger, is not the best option,” the brown-haired woman thought for a moment. “Besides, your sisters in arms, albeit belatedly, were avenged. As far as I could understand the culture of Asgard from our many conversations, revenge looks like a comforting thing to you."

"You're right, it _looks_ ," the Asgardian smiled bitterly. “During the war, we were always told:“ Do not look for consolation in the tears shed for your comrades, but look for it in the shed enemy blood," they said that it would become easier when you took revenge. And everyone believed in it. If only you knew how glad I was when Thor gave me this opportunity... And now, the scum that killed the Valkyries is dead. Enemy blood has been shed. They are avenged. Only.. it didn't get any easier. Not at all. Where, I wonder, is the promised consolation? Nowhere. There's none of it. All that I got from this revenge is a new portion of memories that I want to quickly drown in alcohol."

Dana did not say anything - the consolations were also not her strong side, or rather were frankly weak side - only squeezed the hand of a friend more strongly. What the woman could not - or simply did not want - to say out loud, she made clear with gestures. In her language, it meant something like, "Of course, you won't get a word of sympathy from me, but that doesn't mean I don't give a damn." A couple of seconds later, she twisted their fingers (translation: "I love you") and looked at her from under her eyelashes, batting a couple of times (translation: "You know this, don't you?"). Valkyrie only now noticed that the palm may looked just like her own, but was much warmer. Another gap in the illusion, along with the organs of vision, smell and hearing. Indeed, and how did she not pay attention to all this? So much of the elite warrior of Asgard... Looked in the mirror and panicked. However, there were some extenuating circumstances. She just woke up after a hen-sick booze. Her brain at that time was deprived of any ability to analytical thinking, or even was in a coma, and all the rest of her body, not receiving clear signals from the aforementioned organ, was just a bag of flesh, blood and bones, which could hardly be kept upright. And this... This is... Perhaps the best name would be "walking (somehow) misunderstanding" opens her eyes and suddenly discovers that the eyes are not really her own, but stranger's... or rather, familiar ones, as, indeed, facial features and everything else. What kind of calm reaction can we talk about in such circumstances?

"Now you are truly thinking," Dana said. The corners of her lips raised slightly. "And now, sweetie, let's decide what we want more: continue talking or go downstairs and have breakfast?"

"Did you want to say "have lunch"?" a smile began to appear on Brunnhilde's face too.

"I always say exactly what I want to say. I don’t know how it’s established there in Asgard... or rather, how it was established... ouch!" the Valkyrie nudged her friend with her elbow. "Be that as it may, for me breakfast is the first meal, not a meal within a certain time frame. So what? Chatter or concoction?"

"Chatter. I definitely need to put something in my stomach before it starts eating away at itself."

"Considering how much and, most importantly, _what kind of_ alcohol you have poured into yourself over the past two days, I would be very surprised if your acids still have something to eat away at. For some reason, the local alcohol-based drinks are several times stronger than this very alcohol-base."

"Are we going to have breakf... to eat or not?"

"I am," Dana replied, and then nodded first towards the Valkyrie, and then towards the closet. "But it will not hurt you to put yourself in order. You, after all, now look like me after a loud binge, but you should look like me, who put myself in order after a loud binge. So, go ahead and make yourself presentable. I'll wait for you, so be it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, guys, I took time time to write you over a thousand words, and I think it would be fair if you took time to write me at least ten ;)
> 
> Waiting for your comments as always.


	16. About gods, about humans and about those who are somewhere between

Loki relentlessly scrolled through those few minutes of shouting, inarticulate exclamations and swearing performed by Dana... that is, it was Valkyrie, of course, but she yelled in the voice of her, as it turned out, less impressionable friend. The lack of such a reaction from the second victim of his trick, of course, was upsetting, but did not prevent the trickster from enjoying the result of the work done. And he did a hell of a work: first, he had to create his own copy to get into the room, then to see the details of the appearance (at least, the appearance of the Valkyrie; he did not have to watch Dana closely: her image with all the "details" seems to have decided to settle in his consciousness on the permanent residence) in the darkness, then to apply first two visual illusions, to fixate them properly, to fixate tactile ones upon them and then create an illusion upon the voices. And each of these illusions had to be of the highest quality in order to look and, most importantly, feel believable and, well, to last long enough.

Now, sipping his beloved Uinbjergian tea and remembering all the work he had done, Loki could not help feeling a little pride and a little... although no, quite a lot of complacency. It was one of his finest creations. In terms of illusions, at least. Mother would be proud. If not for the prank itself, then for its quality for sure.

_It's been a while since I tried so hard_ , he thought, taking another sip. Usually, such efforts he made only when he intended to impress his mother or Od... father. Frowning slightly, Loki pressed his lips to the cup again. _Mother was easier to impress,_ he added to himself. Probably because she, like Loki, loved magic, and therefore rejoiced every time her youngest son made progress in this area. His father, on the other hand, preferred martial arts to magic, and therefore showed much more admiration for Thor, who shares his preferences.

For a second, a traitorous thought slipped through the trickster's head: " _Was this obnoxious woman impressed?_ " He immediately shook his head, throwing out such thoughts. No way! As if he has to care what this bitch thinks about the work done. Her assessment worries him in the last place... or rather, does not worry at all. He tried first of all for himself, and not at all in order to impress her.

Oddly enough, thoughts of the possible opinion of the Valkyrie - another "victim" - did not even fleetingly enter his mind. Despite the fact that both women were noisy, his attention... or rather - the trickster mentally corrected the flow of his own reflections - his lack of attention was directed only to one of them.

_I wonder if she’s angry?_ this thought passed the "censorship" in the mind of Loki, and therefore he was in no hurry to get rid of it, even though the object was the one about whom he in every possible way tried not to think. _She certainly didn’t react as violently as the Valkyrie, but that doesn’t mean she’s not angry, does it?_ _She must be angry. With her temperament_...

Her image appeared before his eyes again... not the one from the incident on the balcony, but from their first fight. Reared thick hair, a face full of anger, a deep voice with growling notes and eyes constantly glaring at him, which seemed to be blazing from within with a golden fire. Well, and ten long, sharp claws, clinging to his hand and threatening to rip it to shreds. The angry Dana, in Loki's opinion, was a frightening, but, nevertheless, mesmerizing sight. And so far, he was the only being in the entire multiple universe who wanted to see this sight again. Wanted very mush. And who cares that making this woman angry is almost tantamount to getting into the cage of a hungry tiger and starting to pull its tail. The only difference is that there is still a chance to get out of the cage with the tiger, if not whole, then at least alive.

Not surprising that when the trickster felt their approach (he felt, of course, not so much them themselves as his illusions imposed on them), he was seized with an exciting anticipation. Children experience something similar on their birthday, waiting for the arrival of guests, who - of course, how could it be otherwise? - will give them gifts.

Hearing the door to the dining room open, Loki immediately squinted his eyes towards the entrance. It has been a long time since he felt such impatience. He noticed the women immediately. They noticed him as well. The two friends walked in his direction, and the trickster immediately prepared himself for the subsequent violent reaction. In one hand, which he held under the table, he materialized a dagger (you never know how violent the reaction can be).

All the joy and anticipation were mercilessly washed away by a wave of disappointment when both women suddenly turned left and, after walking another couple of meters, sat down at a free bed, chatting about something. Nobody seemed to be going on a rampage. Moreover, none of them even looked angry or even annoyed. The guests came, but instead of the expected heap of large gift boxes, the child received a bunch of greeting cards, and none of them had any money inside.

Loki could hardly refrain from making a offended grimace. Not fair. He tried so hard not to just listen to the screams behind the wall for a few minutes (not only was it performed by only one victim, but also not by the one whose indignation he was going to enjoy in the first place). Where is the resentment? Where is the anger? Where is the angry face and the furious eyes? Where is all that he was waiting to see?

_Where is the response?_ The trickster continued his mental indignation, not taking his eyes off the dark-haired couple. They sat, chatting about something among themselves and did not even pay attention to him. And worst of all, they looked like nothing had happened. _She… I mean, **they** should have been wild with anger, and they instead behave as if nothing had happened. Don't tell me that those few minutes of panicky screaming and cursing were all the response?_ he remembered how Dana reacted to the fact that Thor was snoring, and to what he had done in the kitchen, and a couple of other incidents that happened after... His brother did not get away with anything, and after all, he did all the above by accident, unconsciously, in a stupid way, while he, Loki, put a lot of effort. _No, that's nonsense. This cannot be all. It is not in her nature to close her eyes to such a thing. There has to be something else. There just must be_...

The answer fell on him as suddenly as the apple had once fell on the head of Isaac Newton. Or it would be more correct to say, like the shot of Iron Man in ... it seems, it was Germany, because it was his words that suddenly surfaced in the head of the trickster: "If we can't protect the Earth, you can be well damn sure we'll avenge it". Th revenge…

_This is her response. Not screaming, not swearing, and it seems that not even the claws, which she loves to show so much_ , the trickster realized. He could not yet determine for sure whether he liked this realization or not. To see the angry Dana again, he certainly wanted madly (such a desire, however, itself is sheer madness), but to feel in his flesh ten reduced analogs of knives into which her manicure turns into he wanted much less. _No, she's going to take revenge. She's going to come up with some trick in return_. 

He gave them a quick glance. They all were still chatting with casual faces. Too casual, as for the trickster. A series of creeps quickly ran down hsi spine.

_Unless she's already came up with it_.

Loki looked towards the friends again, but concentrated his attention on Dana. Despite the fact that the illusions that the trickster put on the two women were of more than just "excellent" quality, even Thor would guess that something was wrong with the women. At least due to the fact that the Valkyrie usually sits on a chair, and not _straddles_ it, resting her elbows on the back of it and with her legs wide apart. Loki had just noticed this. Due to loud snoring and, as a consequence, chronic lack of sleep for more than half of their group, everyone had their own schedule of the day, and therefore it was difficult to catch everyone together at the same time. Trickster manages to catch Dana in the kitchen about five times, but that was enough for him to realize that she didn't like just sitting _at_ the table. However, she really liked to sit _on_ the table. Or on one of the surviving kitchen cabinets. Once Loki even found her, eating some nuts, on top of the refrigerator. This woman definitely enjoyed jumping on different surfaces.

It is said that every person has a "highlight." Something that makes someone very different from everyone else. It can be some detail of appearance, character trait, demeanor: any noticeable distinctive trait. Dana's hallmark, this very "highlight," was... Herself. She was one big distinctive detail. No illusions, no matter how artous they may be, seemed incapable of "hiding" all its hallmarks. And it was not only about her habits or manner of communication. Just as Thor possessed some inexplicable charisma that allowed him to quickly converge with almost any people, Dana had no less inexplicable allure, which forced others every now and then to look at her, and passers-by - to turn their heads. At first, Loki wrote off everything on her appearance, but now, watching the cute chattering girlfriends, he realized that the appearance has absolutely nothing to do with it. No, of course, this woman had a seductive figure and a rather pretty face, but such a "set" is common if not for most, then for many others, and some - in one way or another - got themselves an even better "set".

The trickster turned his gaze to the Valkyrie. She now looked exactly like Dana: the same thick chocolate hair with a golden tint, the same facial features, the same curves, even the same clothes that the woman was wearing yesterday. Every part of the illusion has been perfectly finished, down to the smallest detail. And yet... something was wrong. And this was felt not only by Loki, but also by all the others who were present here. Last evening, these people could not take their eyes off the swarthy woman in open black clothes, and admiring sighs were heard throughout the hall every now and then. Now, those present cast the same glances towards the woman as well, only this time the one that was hidden from throat to toe by the Valkyrie's ammunition. No, of course, the woman in black was also gazed at every now and then, but most of the attention was still paid to the second one.  
  


Loki also looked at her and, to his surprise, felt that he could not take his eyes off. He again felt that incredible attraction, despite the fact that Dana was now not like herself... No, on the contrary, Dana was very much like herself. This was exactly the point. Somehow, this woman remained herself, even when she looked completely different. Even if Loki had turned her into Malakit, she would still attract everyone's attention, like a magnet attracts iron. And all because the allure of this woman, everything which attracts and at the same time repels, which draws other people's eyes, which makes her crash into someone else's memory - all this was coming from inside, and not outside. Dana was incredibly seductive not because she had good looks, but because she was... simply because she was herself. Dana was Dana, that's all. And such a "detail" cannot be hidden by any illusions.

Having realized that he was not about to wait the desirable performance with an angry fury, the trickster got up from the table and went back to his room. He hoped the attendants had enough time to do all the work there, and also bring him a new stack of books as he ordered. Though, when Loki voiced this demand, for some reason he was not asked: “What genre of reading would you prefer? Which language? ", but:" Do you have problems with the heating system? Shall we call the master? " Apparently, on this planet, books (at least in paper form) were mainly intended for kindling a fireplace or to prop up loose furniture. Even the thought of treating books this way made the trickster flinch. What a barbarism... Even the Jotuns - damn them all along with their Jotunheim - handled the folios better: they did not acquire them at first place, giving preference to stone and ice blocks. If they anything was propped up with such "books", it was walls and gates. And with small "notebooks" and "school diaries", one could beat to death some enemy, that is, an Asgardian... 

Once in the room, Loki smiled with satisfaction, noticing another pile of local kindling. Taking the first book he came across, the trickster sat down on a neatly made bed and began to read "A Thousand and One Ways Not to Lose Your Head". Bluin's approach to literature was the same as to life in general - very practical. Literary reading did not take root here. But manuals on survival in the wild, encyclopedias of the animal world (especially that part of it that have a bad habit of eating another part), textbooks on mechanics and cookbooks were very popular. Though, sometimes Loki wondered: if locals mainly use books here in case of a shortage of firewood, then why bother with writing and publishing at all? When are they read?

_Probably, if it does come to reading, it is in digital format_ , thought the trickster, licking his finger and turning the page. Reading always helped him to relax, to forget for a while about the world around him and all kinds of problems and worries. But now, no matter how hard he concentrated his attention on the black squiggles, some part of him still could not relax. A couple of light-hearted, dark-haired women reappeared in his head. The tension increased. _I wonder what this pest has already come up with?_

* * *

Loki was mistaken thinking that Dana did not appreciate his trick with illusions. Oh, she appreciated, and very much. Moreover, she appreciated it like no other could, because it was magic, and with it the woman was _very_ close.

If only the Valkyrie hadn't been nostalgic for her former sisters in arms, if she had let her friend continue to talk about magic, then she would have found out why Dana was so damn good in it. Divine power - one of many kinds of magic - can be obtained in different ways, but the most reliable is inheriting. Some genes are transmitted through the blood, and others - through the soul. This explains well how Loki managed to inherit Frigga's magic despite a lack of blood kinship. But if the gods could only inherit magical powers, there would be no variety. When everyone has the same tricks, what kind of diversity can we talk about? And why will one pantheon need, for example, three goddesses of beauty? Or two gods of war? The title is valuable due to the fact it can only belong to just one. No, the gods do inherit abilities from their parents, but only partly. They have to develop the rest in themselves. Take, for example, the same Loki and Frigga. Yes, the trickster learned how to impose illusions (and some other enchantments) from his mother, but the ability to look into the future continued to belong only to Frigga alone. Loki, in his turn, has developed the ability to look into other people's memories.

In general, gods' genetics is arranged in such a way that the gods, shall we say, "do not overlap." With earthly gods, the situation is, in principle, similar, but given the number of religions, it is worth making a clarification: the gods of the same pantheon should not be "overlapped". This means that Hindus, Egyptians, Greeks, and anyone else can have their own god of war, but neither a Hindu, nor an Egyptian, nor a Greek, nor anyone else can have two gods of war. At least, two gods of war with identical titles and abilities.

But Dana was not a goddess. Not in the classical sense of the word. She was a half-breed: a woman in whose soul divine power and the entire spectrum of human feelings were mixed. She, like her older brother, inherited from her mother some of her abilities, but, unlike the same Mahes, who also developed the control of thunder and storm in himself, Dana did not acquire such a feature. She did not possess her own _personal_ magic, magic that her mother did not possess, and therefore was not a goddess. You could rummage through every, absolutely all sources regarding the pantheon of the gods of Egypt, but none of them will contain the name of Dana, because in order to be included in the list of gods, it is not enough just to have divine power, you need to be a god of _something_. To do this, it is necessary to develop in yourself your own divine power, different from all others, and Dana was not capable of such a thing due to the lack of "divine" genes. And the capacity of her inherited divine powers was half that of other gods. And it also recovered more slowly.

However, Mother Nature, apparently, decided that she had reduced it enough, it would be nice to add here and there. Nature has paid off with one innate feature. Dana saw (and also heard, smelled and felt) the world as it really was. And it was full of magic. In one form or another, in different quantity and quality, but it was everywhere. And Dana saw it as clearly as, for example, she saw the clouds in the sky. Of course, she saw magic only if the latter had at least some visible shell. But even if it was absolutely invisible both to the eyes of ordinary people and to her own, the woman always felt magic. Dana was like an incredibly sensitive receiver, able to pick up signals that are not available to others. It is difficult to describe what this "sensitivity" to magic is like. Perhaps this can be compared to electroreception. As if people (gods of various types in this context also fall under this term), just like the same sharks, suddenly began to feel the electrical signals of the environment. Dana saw magic, felt it and, as a result, understood it. She could understand any magic: both the one that she practiced herself and the one that she observed around. And given that she spent a certain period of her life studying the universe with enviable persistence, and given that this world is full of the most diverse magic, this woman knew _a lot_ : both about magic and about the universe.

Dana did not know whether this ability was inherent to her alone, or whether all the demigods-demihumans were capable of it, because she had never met neither other supersensitive to magic beings, nor any other such half-breeds. But the fact remained: she always knew exactly what was real and what was not, and always felt magic. Especially when it was casted upon her. It was impossible to confuse that feeling with anything. So the Loki's work did impressed her - even if she never admits it out loud - at least because he managed to impose a spell so carefully that she didn't even wake up.

But the trickster could not even dream of deceiving her. He could be the best magician-illusionist of all times and peoples, but there is no illusion that will work with Dana. No, the woman did not see through them (she sees magic, not through it), but she saw them and knew _what_ they were. For her, the difference between an illusion and non-illusion was as obvious as, say, the difference between a living person and his cardboard image.

But she appreciated the trickster's efforts. As a true connoisseur of magic, Dana was fully aware of the skill and effort required to do such a job. Loki made a hell of efforts in order to do such a prank with her and the Valkyrie. She had not seen such a high quality illusion for a long time. For her, it was not even so much a prank as a demonstration of skill. Perhaps that is why she did not feel anger and, as a result, the desire to cut the trickster's throat.

_He tried so hard. And all this, to some extent, was for me_ , Dana thought, and her lips stretched themselves into a smile. Magic... She had not received such signs of attention for a long time.She and Brunnhilde were still sitting at their table and eating breakfast. Rather, Dana has already finished her breakfast, but the Valkyrie has dealt with only three dishes so far. _Well, it will only be fair if I try for him too._

The Valkyrie, pushing the fourth plate towards her, stared suspiciously at her friend's smile. Even though, in fact, she was now looking at her own face, there was never a moment of doubt that it was Dana who was in front of her. She, too, did not seem to experience any discomfort, looking at herself.

"How are you doing it?" the Valkyrie asked, giving her jaw a break from chewing.

"What exactly?" 

"Behaving like this... Feeling absolutely no, how to put it more precisely... "wrong"? she finally picked up the right words. "I mean, yes, we - basically, you, of course, frankly speaking - figured out what's going on, but it's one thing to know that it's all an illusion, and quite another to completely ignore it. For example, I still feel uncomfortable when I see my reflection in a cup, or look at my... or rather, your breasts. And to you all this is like peas against the wall."

"Oh, that's what you meant," Dana stared at the ceiling for a few seconds, choosing the most accurate and understandable wording. "You see, I just always know exactly who I am, where I am and when I am. It does not let you get confused. I already told you today: I am me, you are you, and we are both here and now. The main thing is to know this, and then, as you put it, you don't feel any "wrong", because you know that everything is right."

"If following your logic, then everything will always be right, because, if you think about it, then there is no place and time for us to be, but only here and now,” the Valkyrie summed up and began to chew again. She, like any native of Asgard, always had a good appetite, and after a booze - even more so.

"Exactly, sweetie. And it is very important to always remember this. So, if one time in your head a question suddenly pops up: "Is me is truly me?", kick it out. You start to doubt such things, and you can be imbued with anything."

"How is it even possible to forget who you are?" asked Brunnhilde, but after taking a thought, she immediately added: "Well, except for those cases when you drank a sufficient amount of alcohol."

"As it turns out, very simple,” Dana replied. "An open mind is, of course, good, but the trouble is that everyone immediately starts throwing everything into it. Some thoughts and ideas, after considering, need to be thrown back, like those that Hitler preached. In short, you need to listen to other opinions, but not always. Otherwise, someone may decide that he is the king and god, and you are just a servant, if not a slave, and make you believe it. When you talk about it now, I know that it’s hard to believe in something like that - for someone to willingly recognize himself as a lower creature - but if you remember the past... Gods, how many such idiots were there. It amazes how easily people were brainwashed."

"If that will console you, then in Asgard... well, at least when I used to live there, things were also, to put it mildly, not very good. We were taught the idea that the conquest of other worlds is done for their own good: they say, we give them civilization and protection..." Dana let out a laugh, "I know, I know, this is pure idiocy, but then the people - the people of Asgard, at least - really believed in it. Me too, as much as I am ashamed to admit it. Later, when I personally took part in these "deliveries of protection and civilization", it dawned on me that all this is the purest water exploitation of other people's resources and the strengthening of the political position of Asgard," Brunnhilde sighed and put down her fork. The appetite has slightly diminished: a very disturbing sign for an Asgardian. "You know, now, remembering all this, I just... just amazed at what a naïve fool I was in my youth."

"I don't know what made you think the news... well, I wouldn't say that this was news to me, rather, another reminder of how the world - and when I say "world", I mean the whole plural the universe - is full of idiots, and how many of these idiots are in power... In short, I do not know how this should have served me as a consolation. Rather, on the contrary," Dana would gladly continue the discussion on the topic: “Everyone around - except me, of course, are idiots,” but decided to stop, because such lectures could drag on for several hours. "And about youth... I could say that I was also stupid and naïve, but that would be a lie, and I am, as you know, trying to speak the truth..." Brunnhilde looked at her very expressively. Considering that she now looked exactly like her friend, she just got the perfect "Bitch, please" expression. Dana narrowed her eyes in displeasure. "And what is this look supposed to mean?"

"We both know that you are only telling the part of the truth that suits you. Seriously, friend, you sometimes manipulate the facts so that any mass-media has no choice, but to nervously smoke on the sidelines, sobbing into four streams."

"Never said I was trying to be honest," Dana replied. "Besides, sweetie, I tell you the whole truth. Almost always."

"The key word is "almost".

"Exactly. And it could be "rarely" or "never."

"Or, maybe, "always"?"

"Always?" Dana stared at her with a face on the forehead of which the question was written in large print: "Are you completely mad?". "Sweetie, do you have any idea what will happen if everyone suddenly starts always telling the _whole_ truth? Can you imagine a world in which there is _not a single drop of lies_?"

Brunnhilde pondered. A world without lies. In her opinion, a great world. Yes, of course, lawyers, politicians and marketers will have a hard time, and Loki will have to find another title for himself, but in general...

"As for me, this will be a pretty good world," she finally answered. "At least, no one can cheat or break a promise. And the criminals will not be able to deny: “It wasn’t me,” “I didn’t do it,” justice will triumph at least a little..."

"Justice?" Dana grinned again. "How will triumph something that will not exist?"

"What?"

"We are now talking about a world without lies, remember? That is, no Santa Claus and the like, no brownies, no karma, no fairy tales, no myths, no lies at all. Therefore, there will be no justice in the world either."

"Not the best thing to compare... myths and justice are completely different things. Myths are lies, but justice is not."

"Oh really?" a dark eyebrow arched. "Then what is justice? Or, for instance, the same mercy? Morality? Can you show me a single atom of any of them? No? Because there are none of them. However, we still act as if there is... some order in the universe, rightness by which it is worth be judged, even though none of these actually exists."

"Yes, but people need to believe in this, because otherwise..." she suddenly stopped. "Oh".

Dana smiled a knowing smile.

"That's exactly what I'm talking about. In fact, justice, mercy, morality and all that stuff are just lies. A fantasy created by people. But people believe in it, believe so strongly that the lie has become more real for them than the truth. This is what distinguishes us from animals: the ability to believe in something that does not exist. And you need to believe, otherwise where will it come from?"

"Are you saying that if you take the lies away from people…"

"They will cease to be people,” Dana finished for her. “I hope I don’t need to clarify that by "people” I mean almost all peoples, even including the gods? Although... most of the earthly gods, perhaps, should be amended. Some of them have foam in their brains. If there are any brains at all."

"Can I ask?" asked the Valkyrie, quickly finishing the fourth course. The appetite was back.

"Well, since we have a day of conversations on philosophic topics today..."

"Where does all this come from in you?"

"By "all this" you mean wisdom? It comes with experience."

"I am thousands of years old," Brunnhilde began, "and I have known go... people who were even older, but few of them had so much wisdom as you do. And you, even if you are older than me, then not that much."

"Sweetie, wisdom, as I said, comes with experience, not with years. And you, Asgardians, are the best confirmation of this: you remain fools even after having lived for thousands of years," the Valkyrie only made a displeased face in response. It was shame, but true. "I can’t tell you exactly how old I am, because I lied so often about this that I don’t even remember myself. Hell! I don't even know exactly when I was born. And when your mother drags you from one space-time point to another during almost all of your childhood, you stop paying attention to such trifles as dates. However, I doubt that you and I have such a big age difference. But, again, age does not play such an important role here. Young fools do not always become old sages. Sometimes they remain fools, only older ones. You can live for millions of years and still know less than a person who has not yet hit his sixth decade," a smile appeared on Dana's face. But not mocking or smug, as is usually the case, but rather... sad. “I’m telling you this as someone who has lived with people for most of her life. And now, by "people" I mean those people who live on Earth. People like Bruce. Humans."

"Yes, you often shared with me stories about your life on Earth," Valkyrie smiled with recollections. Dana had many stories, although most of them could not be told to persons under the age of eighteen. "The moral is usually the next: people are idiot... Auch!" the Asgardian woman felt a kick in the leg and looked indignantly at her friend. "Hey, you're always saying negative things about them."

"Yes, but I live among them, so _I_ have the right to do so," the woman said unflinchingly. "It's even... Patriotic. Besides, idiots are the most powerful organization in the plural universe. Their people are... Everywhere. Yes, humanity, for the most part, is a bunch of idiots, but the same can be said about the Asgardian. And about a bunch of other nations, trust me, I know. But not everyone remains an idiot for the rest of their lives. People - again in the broad sense of the word - do not freeze in place: time goes by, they are finding out something new, learning, changing. Some are aging, some are just getting older, and some, if they're lucky, are even maturing. But it takes time for all these, sweetie. It doesn't matter who you are: human, god, Martian, everyone needs time in order to change. But the thing is, each has its own amount of this very time," a melancholy smile returned to its former place. "And a human, sweetie, has _much less_ of it than a God. But in ten years a human is able to accumulate more wisdom than the same god - in a thousand years. For a decade humans manage to gain many times more experience than other creatures - for their whole much longer life. Yes, humans are not the smartest creatures, but not the stupidest either. Certainly no more stupid than you Asgardians. Shorter lifespans do not mean less experience and wisdom. On the contrary, sweetie, the less time you have, the more you value it, and you do not scatter valuable things to the right and to the left. Come to think about it, both the human and the Asgardian live more or less the same life. At least if you estimate by the amount of experience gained. The only thing that distinguishes is the pace of this very life. Where an Asgardian needs a century, if not a millennium, a human needs only a few years. Because humans learn faster, which means they change faster too. And I, sweetie, have lived among people most of my life. And although my life is much longer than theirs, I've lived it at a _human_ pace. Few decades are enough for humans to become wiser than Gods, and I've had millennia. That's why I'm wiser than you and all your Asgardians combined," Dana thought for a second. "Well, and, I think, my irrepressible curiosity played a role here as well, always pushing me towards the unknown. Will there be more questions or can I finally retire to the ladies' room?"

"The last one,” Brunnhilde replied immediately. Taking the rolling eyes of her friend as agreement, she immediately voiced the question: "What are you going to do with Loki?"

"Oh," Dana's lips stretched out into a smile again, but this time in one of those that sometimes made the Valkyrie want to cringe. “I'll just show him some of my magical powers. An eye for an eye, so to speak."

"An eye for an eye - and the world goes blind."

"Only if everyone really starts to tear each other's eyes out,” the woman shrugged. "Don't worry so much, sweetie. I'm not going to do him anything like that. At least, anything this trickster could not survive."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you liked - leave comment (please...)  
> If you didn't - leave comment as well so I know what to fix.  
> Still waiting...


	17. Revenge is a dish that best served slightly cooled

The annoying itching in some inaccessible place, located somewhere in the back of the skull, did not give Loki rest all day and most of the evening. Hours passed. Many hours. And nothing special happened. By "special" the trickster, of course, meant revenge. He spent the whole day in limbo, waiting... what exactly, he did not know, but something for sure. But nothing followed. The bitchy woman still hasn't gotten her revenge, although she had more than enough time for that.

And it was stressful. Loki has always had an incredibly lively and just the same tireless thought process, but in emergency situations this process progressed at such a speed that, it seemed, he could give odds even to schoolchildren running into the cafeteria. A similar sensation was experienced by many, and for the majority, however, it was accompanied by a rapid heartbeat, cold sweat and the feeling of the ground knocked out from under their feet. Just remember how you felt after the teacher's phrases, such as: "Now, close the textbooks and take out sheet of paper" or "And, to the blackboard will go..." or, for example, when you broke your mother's favorite vase. The main catch is that emergencies are usually short-lived (although most would swear it lasted forever), and you don't have time to faint from brain overwork or nervous system failure. However, Loki was in "extreme situation mode" from the moment he realized that the victim of his trick was going to take revenge.

In short, the trickster was already exhausted during the waiting time and was now more than ever close to acquiring such popular character traits with royals as paranoia, absolute suspicion and schizophrenia. The only thing that saved his nervous system from complete collapse was all those years spent with his brother and his friends, who tempered Loki so that his nerves in strength could compete with vibranium.

_This woman will drive me crazy_ , he thought, lying on the bed, peering into the shadows and listening to every sound. _What can one possibly plan for so long?_ Loki spent a lot of time trying to imagine possible options. It didn't work out very well, because everything he knew about the abilities of this woman was limited to her transformations, the ability to increase body temperature and travel through time and space. _Or is she just going to plague me with waiting?_

In such reflections, the trickster spent at least another three hours, until his brain announced a time-out, and God finally managed to get lost in sound, albeit not quite restful sleep. And as soon as his breathing evened out, tanned female feet sank silently onto the thick carpet in his room.

* * *

Hulk was bored. After Thor had been "accepted" into one of the juvenile criminal gangs (from the language of adults it is translated as "any group of children between the ages of three and seventeen"), the thunder god showed up at the hotel only in the evenings and only in order to have dinner, to lie down and start snoring. He had not seen the Valkyrie since the moment he dragged her and Thor into the hotel room, after which he passed out himself. So, there was no one to entertain the revenger, and without entertainment it was boring.

The further logical chain in Hulk's head would be best described using "=". Boredom = no anger. No anger = calmness. Calmness = Benner. Benner = bad. Thus, the avenger came to the logical conclusion "Boredom = bad." Therefore, the Hulk tried to rectify the situation. Good = anger, and anger = smash. Therefore, if Hulk wants to feel good, Hulk needs to smash.

But not in a hotel. There is a lot of furniture in the hotel, and he promised the gorgeous woman not to destroy furniture again. The last time he did this, he defused both her and the angry Valkyrie, after which he also felt bad. And now he wants to feel good. Good = not upsetting the gorgeous woman and the Valkyrie = not destroying furniture. Hulk took a thought again. So far, the list of "good" is only decreasing, while the list of "bad" is only growing.

The revenger sighed loudly and discontentedly. The sight was so strong the hat flew off the bartender in the hotel lobby who was wiping the glasses.

"Would you like a drink, sir?" he asked, looking up from his occupation. On his phlegmatic face there was an expression of patience of such a caliber, which can only be characteristic of an old horse that has worked out in its lifetime, has seen everything and is accustomed to everything.

"Hulk is bored," the revenger replied. "Boredom - bad."

"I completely agree with you, sir," the bartender nodded and asked the question again: "Would you like a drink, sir?"

"Drinks are calming,” Hulk remembered how he felt during his first drinking binge in his life. He felt, in general, good, but at the same time he was not angry at all. And now all he wanted was to get angry. And quickly, before Banner gets out of the trunk of his subconscious.

"Yes, sir, they eat away nerve cells. And some of them - even iron. Would you like a drink, sir?"

"Hulk want be angry!"

The bartender fell into a stupor for a moment. He has dealt with many clients (and his face is the best confirmation of this), but none of them have ever sat down at the bar in order to get angry. Usually they came to him _after_ they got angry, quarreled, fought and angered all the neighbors with the noise from the above.

"You can have an argument with someone, sir,” the bartender suggested, recalling numerous customer stories about what led them to the hotel and, most importantly, to the bar. "Or a fight," and immediately added: "just not here."

"Smash furniture - bad."

"Yes, sir, that's why I said it."

"Hulk have no one to argue with," the revenger complained. Thor was now sleeping in deep dream, and he still has not intersected with the Valkyrie.

"You can call some government agency, sir. I am sure that if you do this now, when they have all been closed for four hours already, arguments - or even a fight - are guaranteed to you."

"Hulk have no phone."

"That's bad. Would you like a drink, sir?" it looks like the bartender decided to try to piss him off on his own.

"Hulk want..."

"But mo-o-om!" the light, relaxed atmosphere of the hotel hall was destroyed by a piercing boyish voice. "How long do we have to wait? I want to sleeeeep!"

The mother smiled awkwardly at the visitors who turned around at the noise, like: "Oh, these children...", and then turned to her child. The smile has not disappeared anywhere, but the message has changed from "oh, these children..." to "oh, just wait till we are alone..."

"Honey, we came here a few minutes ago,” she hissed, keeping that slightly insane smile that mothers seem to develop naturally, along with a breast milk. "The room needs to be cleaned and prepared. This takes time. Wait a little."

"But mo-o-o..."

"If you don’t stop whining, the berg will come to you at night and eat you,” the woman quickly interrupted the second wave of whining. Seeing, however, that the child is going to use the second most popular method from the children's manual "How to bring a mother to a nervous tic" (see the section "The last mother's nerve: finding and destroying"), namely, to hit loud sobs, she decided to add another threat, this time more terrifying than some toothy monsters there: "And mom will never give you cookies again."

Frightened by such an unimaginable threat, the boy immediately shut his mouth and dried the tears in his eyes.  
  


When the eerily slow but nonetheless working calculating machine called the Hulk's brain finished processing the information that had just arrived, the green avenger turned his attention back to the bartender.

"What is berg?" he asked.

"A kind of local animals, sir,” the bartender replied. "A large, shaggy beasts with long claws and sharp teeth. Mothers always scare the kids with them, but so far not a single unprovoked case of a berg attack on a person has been registered, sir."

Hulk fell into thought again. Big toothy beast = big monster. Big monster = not a furniture. Not a furniture = you can smash it. Smash = good. Hulk smiled.

"Where is this berg?" the avenger asked.

"I hope it’s somewhere far from me, sir,” the bartender replied with the same phlegmatic face of the most patient being in this hotel. "Bergs live in the local forests, but once they were seen on the outskirts of the city. The pack was scared away, no one was hurt. But from that time everyone is trying not to wander a lot on the outskirts in the evenings, sir."

Pack = a lot. A lot of monsters = a lot of smash. Hulk's smile widened.

"Hulk - smash bergs!" the avenger proclaimed joyfully and headed for the exit from the hotel.

"Good luck, sir," the bartender said goodbye to him and returned to wiping glasses. _One never knows who you'll meet on this job_...

* * *

Loki woke up and immediately examined himself from head to toe. He looked the same as yesterday. Then he examined his surroundings. The room was in twilight, but it was the same room in which he fell asleep. He looked down. The bed also did not undergo any changes. The trickster did not hear any unusual sounds or smells either. He examined the room again, peering into the shadows, but found nothing new. Nothing has changed. And it bothered him more than if he had found that something was wrong.

_Perhaps, it's in the bathroom?_

Loki looked at the door to the next room. What he could find there, the trickster did not know, but all the options must be checked. Moreover, he still needed to wash his face.

He got out of bed and managed to take exactly three and a half steps before he fell. On the floor. From the ceiling.

"What the...?" Loki stared in shock at the fleecy carpet softening the meeting of his face with the floor. He slowly got to his feet and found himself a couple of steps from the balcony door, which was a good five or seven meters from the bed. "What the hell?"

As if having heard his question... though, why as if?.. the question was definitely heard, judging by the female laughter from the next room. Laughter can be different. Poets, for some reason, like to compare it with the murmur of a stream, or with some melodic chime, but in this situation it was impossible to do without turning to the occult. Dana's laugh would have chilled the devil's skin. It was a sound from the Underworld itself. At least that is how Loki saw it at the moment.

After standing still for a few more seconds, the trickster sighed. Now that the shock of the sudden fall from the ceiling had evaporated, he felt a relieve. The torture of anticipation and uncertainty of the future has finally ended. The bitch made her move.

_The secret path, then_ , concluded the trickster after a moment's thought. Obviously, the woman decided to create the same "path" in his room, which she did at the door of Thor, when she poured water on him. Not bad. _I’ll have to lie on the other side of the bed if I don’t want to fall from the ceiling every time I get up_.

Loki made his way back to his former destination, keeping his distance from the bed. This time, he managed to take four more steps before he was again completely not where he planned. The cramped dark room after a short examination turned out to be a cabinet near the front door.  
  


 _Yeah. So, not **a** secret path, but secret path **s** ,_ Loki thought, getting out of a large wooden box. _And something tells me that there are far from two of them_ …  
  


Having decided that it is possible to wash the face in the lobby, the trickster materialized his everyday clothes on himself and left the room. Rather, he tried to leave... One thing was good - this time he ended up in the bathroom. Or, to be more precise, in the bath.  
  


The woman's demonic laughter was heard here too. The bitchy pest seemed to gloat hard...

Loki sat down, leaning his back against the side of the bathtub, and began to think: he always did it well - even when he absolutely did not want it. He was not yet ready to try to go back to the bedroom. You never know where another path can be. So, he was, in fact, locked in his own hotel room, which, literally, _from floor to ceiling_ was stuffed with secret paths so neat that even Loki, with his trained eye for such things, no matter how much time he spent peering, could not find even the smallest outline. Neither the curvature of space, nor the strange attachment of light, nor the smallest change in the force of gravity. The only thing that indicated the presence of these very paths was that the trickster was not sitting on a soft bed, as he was used to, but on the hard floor of the bathtub.

_Well, it could have been worse_ , Loki thought, continuing to look into every square centimeter of the room, hoping to spot the path, but in vain. Just like the trickster made a hell of an effort with creating high-quality illusions, Dana made a hell of an effort with creating equally high-quality secret paths. _One of the paths could have led to outer space or somewhere even worse_...  
  


The last thought made him think again. The demonic laughter that would most likely come to the trickster in one of his dreams (or rather nightmares) was not going to subside.  
  


_Though, perhaps one of them really does._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally finished. It took me more time than I thought it would, but here it is!  
> I hope you liked it and I hope to see your comments to it :)


	18. On top or underneath?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I still didn't loose hope to see few more comments... still didn't.

Animals perceive the world around them somewhat differently than people. First, in most animals, the sense of smell is so acute that people never dreamed of. Secondly, their thought process is also different from that of a human.  
  


Animals divide all creatures into four main categories:

1) Those they run after.

2) Those they run from.

3) Those they mate with.

4) Others.

Of course, the main categories, in turn, have their own sub-categories, sub-sub-categories, and so on. The first category, for example, is divided into: a) those you can eat, and b) those you can eat, but then you yourself will not be happy you did.

In short, most of the thought process of most animals is carried out in the same way as in case of Hulk - using the "=" sign. You see someone = you determine which category it belongs to. Who falls into which category directly depends on who carries out the thought process.

Bergs - creatures that resemble a mixture of a pit bull and a polar bear - were the top predators, and therefore the list of those who fell into their second category was very short. But the category number one was just full of variety. Bergs attacked almost everything that moves - in this they somewhat resembled cats - and the larger it is, the better, because bergs themselves were not only large animals, but also pack-animals, and you will not feed a horde of hungry puppies and those unfortunate left them to guard with a small snack. Therefore, when meeting with a living creature that is not another berg (that's category number three), the following equation arises in the head of this predator: it moves = it can be eaten. The thinking is rather primitive, but it has never failed bergs.

One of the representatives of this species just went out for reconnaissance. The rest of the pack- six more individuals - lurked behind the trees. Its large eyes, adapted to seeing in the twilight, peered into every shadow, ears perked up, and its nose greedily sucked in the air with smells. The predator was looking for another animal belonging to category one.  
  


And found it. Rather, it was it that found berg.  
  


It had an unfamiliar smell and walked on two legs. The gears in the head of the beast began to stir. It moves = it can be eaten = snack on two legs. And it seems, you don't even have to chase this snack: it itself went to the bergs, stamping its paws quite loudly. Very large paws. The creature was very large, much larger than the berg itself. The following thought instantly lined up in my head: it's big = big snack. Big snack = everyone is full. And the predator did not care that the appetizer was green - color that is not typical for the representatives of the local fauna.

The beast did not think further. He rushed to the side of the big snack, knowing that the other members of the pack had already gone around it and were waiting to attack from around the corner as soon as the snack began to run away. The tactic has been tested for generations. The snack did ran. And the berg was very surprised when he realized that instead of running _away_ from it, a big green creature was running _towards_ it. Running and grinning.  
  


If the berg were a little smarter, it would have realized that the creature in front of it belongs not to the first category, but to the second (and it was included in absolutely everyone's second category), and would have built an appropriate equation in his head. However, in the predator's brain, the Big Snack sign still gleamed brightly. Therefore, the berg did not change its trajectory.  
  


This was the first mistake a berg made in its life.  
  


Only in this situation, one mistake = nothingness.  
  


The list of creatures that fell, for predators, in category number two, may not have a great length, but it did existed. And today, in the heads of those bergs that remembered about this faster than the others and, as a result, managed to escape, another equation was forever imprinted: it shouts "Hulk - smash!" = you skedaddle. 

* * *

Loki spent most of the day figuring out how many paths were laid in his room, where each path was located and, most importantly, where it led. He had to use the only possible method - the method of trial and error. Therefore, the trickster very carefully and very slowly walked through his hotel room (which acquired a certain resemblance to a prison cell) for several hours in a row, holding out his hands.

From the outside, he somehow reminded Brunnhilde when she, waking up after a binge, tries to get to the bathroom without opening her eyes. And Dana had a lot of fun watching this parody from her laptop screen. The small camera she had installed in the trickster's room was now working in "live" mode. The device did not transmit sound, but it was not necessary: the wall is not a hindrance even for an ordinary woman who wants to be aware of the life of her neighbors, and Dana with her sensitive hearing, even more so.

_It's a shame sweetie went to her hotel_ , the woman thought, dipping her hand into the bowl of crackers. There was no popcorn on this planet, no chips, no chocolates, and Dana loved to chew on something while watching the show. _We could laugh together_.   
  


The monitor screen showed how Loki fell into one of the paths laid out on the floor, and fell out of another path - on the ceiling - right onto a stack of books near the fireplace. Behind the wall there was a distinct: "Damn her...". Dana laughed. She has laughed more in the last 24 hours than in the last month.  
  


 _I will definitely revisit this tape when I get bored_ , she thought, not taking her eyes off her laptop. _I wonder how long this trickster will last before he dispels his illusions?_  
  


The woman glanced at the time. Then to the screen. Then onto a half-empty bowl of crackers. Then again at the time. And sighed. Contradiction tormented her. On the one hand, she would like to continue watching the comedy, especially since the sound is possible only in "live" mode, that is right now. On the other hand, the crackers, although they were quite good, could not be compared to a normal dinner. Moreover, the food was delicious here. Especially fish. And Dana loved fish very much (and not necessarily cooked).

The thought of seafood made her mouth fill with saliva. Seafood drew thoughts of the sea. Sea - thoughts of the beach. And thoughts of the beach, in turn, pulled thoughts with a rating of 18+ to the surface. In fact, most of her memories had this rating. If we compare the lives of people with books, then Dana's life was something between an encyclopedia and the Kama Sutra. The woman almost groaned. Now she didn't know what she wanted more: a good dinner or good sex. However, she always wanted both on a regular basis. Sex was her addiction, like the Valkyrie's - alcoholism... sorry, drunkenness. Addiction meant harmful passion, however, Dana herself did not quite agree with this. Passion - yes, of course. But harmful? The use of alcohol or drugs is harmful, yes. Smoking is also another addiction. The habit of getting into fights in order to let off steam, is also quite harmful, and not only for its owner. But sex? What kind of addiction, that is "harmful passion" is this? Quite the opposite. If more people knew how many calories are spent during sex, gyms would go bankrupt.

_Dinner first, dessert - second_ , she recalled a favorite phrase of almost all mothers. Dana shifted the laptop from her lap to the bedside table, keeping it on to keep the recording going. Well, she will continue to watch the comedy without sound. It's okay, the monologues there are unlikely to be full of variety. _But first, I should change into something more comfortable._

As for her, comfortable clothes meant clothes easy to remove. And the less fabric, the better. The basis of such preferences was not so much a depraved way of life (although it played a role too), bur the features of the feline form. Dana did not turn into a cat - she _transformed_ into it. It was not magic at all, but pure biology. To understand how this change occurs, imagine millions of years of evolution that have transformed one organisms into others. Have you imagined? And now squeeze them in just a few seconds. This is approximately what happens to Dana every time her body changes. It's just as if people could turn into their ape ancestors (according to one of the main theories) in seconds and vice versa. It is much more pleasant and convenient to change forms in a magical way. If only because you can transform _with_ your clothes, and you do not need to waste time on undressing yourself, hiding clothes, and then looking for them again when it's time to change back to bipedal form, not to mention washing them all later. And the change itself, to put it mildly, is not the most aesthetically pleasing sight.

Therefore, it is not surprising that Dana's mood deteriorated significantly while she was fiddling with the Valkyrie's ammunition, into which the trickster - may he suffer long and loudly (in fact, that's exactly what he was doing now) - turned her clothes. Not only did the fabric hide her body from neck to toes, but it was fucking impossible to guess where the rivet is and how to deal with it.

_If all Asgardian clothes are arranged in this image and likeness, then it is not surprising why, over thousands of years of marriage, they have just two or three children born. To have a child, you need to have sex, and more than once, and in order to do this you need to undress not only yourself, but also your partner_ , the woman, not without anger, pulled some kind of fastener on her back. They, in turn, did not want to give in. _With this damn clothing, by the time everyone is undressed, morning will come and everyone will have to go be back to work._

The clasp yielded, and the woman - unable to contain her exclamation of joy - managed to remove her breastplate. Perfect. Now there was little to do: she just needed to sort out all the rest.

_Not an armor, but a fucking chastity belt. No wonder the sweetie has such a meager sexual experience_ , thought Dana, somehow dealing with the numerous rivets and straps. Yeah... In Asgard, she clearly would not have taken root. Not wearing such clothes, for sure. _There are definitely no instructions for this ammunition? I wonder if this trickster also suffers with his clothes this way when he undresses?_

Dana froze. Her thoughts flowed in the wrong direction... A very wrong direction. Why did she even think about him? Well, yes, she was now tormented with Asgardian clothing, and he was from Asgard, but this was where the points of contact ended. The trickster was now wearing Sakaarian clothes, not Asgardian. She knew this for sure, because she saw on TV what his own clothes were like. Layers of thick fabric, leather, straps, metal inserts and so on. Yeah, it would take her a long time to deal with such ammunition...

Dana shook her head.

_O-o-okay, this is already starting to bother_ , the woman did not give a damn about the fact that when the illusion dissipated, the Valkyrie's ammunition would turn into her clothes, and called for help her sharp claws. The process went much faster. A thought suddenly flashed through her head about how long it would take for her to deal with that leather-metal set she had seen on the news with her claws. And teeth. How long will it take for her to finally get to the skin. And then... _Everything is clear. Dessert first, and dinner can wait. Somewhere until tomorrow noon_. 

When she was finally able to get rid of the Valkyrie's armor, the woman put on the first dress she came across, jumped into the first shoes that came across and flew out of her room at the speed of a schoolboy who heard the call from the last lesson.

* * *

Loki decided that he had enough "ups and downs". He spent all day researching his own room and looking for a way out of it, but he did not find the latter. This badass has thought of everything well. Not only were the paths in very different places, but they were also of different sizes, which made it impossible to slip to the exit door or even to the balcony. He was locked. Again.

The trickster looked at his watch and sighed resignedly. He could not leave the room, invite inside - too, and therefore he would not be able to go downstairs or order dinner in the room. He could say "goodbye" to his favorite tea... Hell! Because of these damned secret paths, even a regular trip to the bathroom had to be prepared like a military operation!

_Damn this woman_ , Loki thought, lying in a less secure place - the bed. A little more, and this phrase will become his official motto. _As I understand it, she will only remove her paths when I remove my illusions. And that's not even a fact_. 

He considered the option of just waiting until it was time to go back into space. Then this woman will have to remove the paths anyway. She won't leave him here forever. Is that so?

_She can_ , the trickster realized with almost horror. _**She** can. And she will do it with great pleasure. And Thor won't make her. If he only tries to hint about her removing the paths, this woman will immediately send him here, to my even greater misfortune. Although, if the Valkyrie asks about it_...

Loki replayed the memory of their interactions in his head. They were friends, and quite close, it was immediately clear. Of course, the bitch remained a bitch even next to her friend, but the Valkyrie, it seems, has long been accustomed to this and did not perceive such treatment as an insult, especially since in her case the insults were if only a little, but softer. And Brunnhilde got away with a lot, such as those rare barbs or remarks that she threw back at her friend. If Thor decides to throw out something similar, and he will receive an answer in his address with so much poison that no viper ever dreamed of. This is at its best. At worst, the thunder god will receive a couple more injuries.

But most importantly, Dana _listened_ to the Valkyrie. This woman ignores most of what other living beings tell her, however when it comes to the Valkyrie, she listens to the words of her friend and, even more surprising, sometimes even _does_ what the latter tells her. The Valkyrie, for some unknown reason, loved Dana, and she loved her in return, although she showed it in a very... in her own original way. Loki had no idea what Brünnhilde had to do to get such a favor.

However, that was not what mattered to him now. It doesn't matter how these two became friends, the main thing is that they continued to be the closest creatures to each other. If Hulk does not miraculously turn back into Benner in the near future, Loki will have to extract information about Earth from Dana. Of course, he cannot do this directly. Neither he, nor Thor, nor anyone else but the Valkyrie. A friend was still the only key to this bitchy woman. If the trickster wants to get something from Dana, he will have to get close to her through the Valkyrie, and after his prank with illusions, he had certain doubts about the latter's disposition to himself.

_Looks like I'll have to use Thor too_ , Loki thought. A chain has already lined up in his head: the trickster influences his brother, he influences Brunhilde, she, in turn, influences her friend, and if the chain does not jam anywhere, Loki will get what he wants. The key word here was “if”. The trickster sighed. _Yes, the amount of work is going to be hellish..._

From further reflections and planning meetings, he was distracted by the sound of a slamming door. So his roommate came back from dinner, damn her. Loki had already mentally prepared himself for the next concert outside the wall, but nothing of the kind followed. Not in a minute, not in two. The trickster had already thought that today he would finally be able to spend the evening, if not quite as he wanted, then at least in peace and quiet, but it was not going to happen.

No, it was not music, nor a movie, nor anything else that was loaded into the laptop. They were moans. Low, drawn-out moans, perfectly audible through the wall. And obviously made not only by the woman.

_She's got to be kidding me_... Loki thought, looking at the wall separating them with a dazed look. His face froze in a vague expression. He suddenly wondered if the woman was doing all this - loud music, movies, and those damn moans now - to get on his nerves, or if she just didn't care if outsiders heard her or not. Probably both, he decided. _Damn this woman. This shameless, bitchy, self-confident, crabbed, arrogant._..

He wasn't sure which was worse: loud music or what he had to listen to now. Despite the fact that the moans were much quieter than what usually comes from the next room, they were very... distracting. Or, rather, on the contrary, they did not allow his already morose imagination to be distracted from its favorite pastime - compiling very spicy slide shows or even videos with the participation of a person who had recently settled in the head of a trickster for permanent residence. Now, with a "live sound" imagination was doing its best. And it didn't matter that the moans were now emitted by the voice of not that woman whose image was now actively used, but her friend.

_I wonder how **her** voice would have sounded?_ he suddenly thought, but immediately shook his head, driving away such thoughts. He realized too late. Imagination heard the question and was now actively trying to find an answer to it.  
  


Loki could almost feel the train of his consciousness, guided by an excessively played imagination, quietly derails from the rail of common sense. This woman was definitely driving him crazy and he definitely didn't like it.  
  


 _It's time to stop_ , thought the trickster, trying to calm his own pulse and at the same time return the pale shade to his cheeks. The moans behind the wall only grew louder and longer. _Right now_. 

The thought process, which had not yet had time to hit the road on a prolonged vacation, threw an idea quickly enough. It was only necessary to concentrate properly and...

"What the fu...!" a surprised male voice rang out behind the wall. "Witch!"

Less than ten seconds later, Loki heard the door of the next room slam shut. The trickster chuckled contentedly. He could not imagine a better moment to dispel the illusion! It's a pity that he could not watch the man's face when he saw how moaning, wriggling... ok, thoughts again went on the wrong rails... when he saw how the woman with whom he, shall we say, was "spending time", began to turn into a completely different woman... Judging by what god heard and with what acceleration the unknown left the room, the sight was amusing. _I would like to see this..._

_Though_ , Loki looked at the leg that appeared out of nowhere, and then the whole woman. Even without really seeing her face, the trickster could bet a tesseract that he had stolen from the Asgardian museum that the brown-haired woman was clearly not in the best mood, _it looks like something more interesting awaits me._.. ”

Dana stood there for a while clearing her paths, or trying to calm down a bit (which was unlikely), before turning to face the trickster. He was wrong. "Not in the best mood" did not fit her description at the moment. Dana was now in about the same condition as when they first met. She was furious. If this woman's confidence could bend iron, then her gaze could melt it. Only now it was not just a look. It was a Look with a capital letter. And this Look was now directed at Loki.

The trickster suddenly remembered his mother telling him to be careful with his wishes. These words have never been as relevant to him as they were now. He wanted some feedback? Reared hair, glowing eyes and a face full of anger? He wanted to see an angry Dana? Well, there she is! Please enjoy.

Until she kills you.

"What. The," Dana began in a low growling voice, not taking her yellow eyes off him. However, there was very little of yellow left in them. Her pupils dilated so much that they covered almost the entire iris. Either the twilight in the trickster's room was to blame for everything, or the excitation, it was not clear. "Fuck. Have. You. Just. Done. Her-r-re?!"

"Oh, just look how angry we are," Loki said, smiling with the satisfied smile of the cat, who finally got to the cream. Well, or the smile of a psychopath, completely devoid of the instinct of self-preservation. "I've just dispelled the illusion. Aren't you happy?"

For a second, it seemed to him that the woman's right eyelid twitched. Ignoring this undoubtedly alarming sign, the trickster continued in an innocent, childlike voice.

"Or have I somehow interrupted your plans?"

Dana growled low and lunged at him, covering the distance to the bed in one leap. Loki managed to roll to the other side and boldly jumped to his feet, no longer worrying about magically falling into the bath or, for example, falling off the ceiling. It took the woman some time to "emerge" from the thick blankets and again rush in his direction, with the obvious intention of scratching out his eyes. The trickster managed to grab her wrist, stopping the sharp claws a few centimeters away from his face. His smiling face. Despite the fact that she tried if not to kill him here, then to maim him, Loki felt happier than ever.

"Damn you," Dana growled, continuing to attack with her three free limbs. This time she managed to scratch his cheek before her other hand was caught.

“You have no idea how often this thought arises in my head,” he replied, continuing to smile smugly, although a fresh couple of scratches caused a certain discomfort. "Only in your address."

Dana tried to free at least one hand, but Loki held on tight. Physically, he was much stronger, and therefore all that she managed to achieve with her attempts was to bring one of the caught wrists closer to her by a few centimeters. But even that was enough for her to stretch her neck and grab the trickster's arm. With her teeth, four of which were now long and sharp canines.

Loki swore aloud, reflexively opening his fingers, and the woman, taking advantage of the moment of his confusion, with all her might smashed her elbow into his solar plexus, and then, without wasting a second, made a sweep, forcing the trickster to fall to the floor. She herself, however, fell after him, because her other hand was held in a stranglehold that even pincers would envy. And she did the further actions almost automatically, because she did not just know how to straddle men but also, to be honest, loved.

Loki no longer smiled so smugly, but that didn’t mean that his mood had worn off. On the contrary, he enjoyed every second, and the further, the better. And screw the fact that he was now laid on his shoulder blades. The view before him was worth it...  
  


 _Damn her_ … thought the trickster, but this time it was not irritation that moved him, but something akin to admiration. In Asgard - may its remnants (if there were any) rest in peace (or in war, given its history) - patriarchy reigned, and therefore certain views, despite the millions of years passed, remained conservative, especially with regard to women. In wives, they valued, above all, beauty, manners and obedience. And thrift, if there were no servants in the house. There were, of course, Valkyries or women like Lady Sif, but the former were considered extinct for a long time, and the latter were, rather, the exception to the rule. By and large, men in Asgard held a dominant position. In everything. And therefore, the behavior that Dana was now demonstrating would be perceived negatively by the majority of the men. _And this majority loses a lot. **A hell** of a lot._  
  


Loki had nothing against that. Rather, on the contrary, right now, looking at the angry yellow-eyed fury sitting on top of him with - there was no sense in denying - a gorgeous body, barely covered with purple cloth, he was all for it. Both hands up for. Or just one hand, considering that the other was nailed to the floor next to his head. He had no doubt that with enough effort he could pull it out, but... why? She didn’t try to scratch out his eyes, bite him again, fortunately, too. Dana just continued to straddle him, squeezing him with her hips - squeezing him very tightly, the trickster noticed - and growled in her belly, continuing to burn him with her almost black eyes. What a sight...

Thinking like that brought another smile to his face. The woman's growl intensified. The smile became even wider and even more satisfied, although it would seem, how much further it could be... It was a vicious circle: Dana was furious that Loki was happy, Loki was happy that Dana was furious, and smiled, which, in turn, infuriated her even more. The situation amused him like nothing else. It was almost a family comedy, when one is having fun simply because the other is mad.

"Like being under-r-rneath?" the woman asked in a low voice, still not taking her eyes off him. They rarely interrupted eye contact when they argued, fought, or even when they were just silent to each other.

"Depends on the circumstances,” replied the trickster and, using his free hand from the miraculous grip, swapped them in one motion. Dana looked no worse underneath him than she did on top of him. All with the same smug smile that he knew perfectly well infuriated her, Loki leaned closer to her, making sure the sharp claws were still at a safe distance from him. "And what about you?"

The fact that he immobilized her hands, while completely forgetting to immobilize her legs, and that this was a _big_ mistake, the trickster realized only when Dana, with a grin no less smug than his own, punched him between his legs with her knee, causing sparks from the eyes. When the first few seconds, during which the world seemed to him as some kind of incomprehensible spot full of hellish pain, passed, Loki found himself lying on his shoulder blades again and looking at the grinning Dana from the bottom to top. Only now, both his thoughts and his feelings - everything was filled only with terrible pain.

"And per-r-rsonally I pr-r-refer-r-r to be on top," she answered in a voice sweet as molasses, and more with purring notes rather than growling. “Although it sometimes depends on the cir-r-rcumstances as well,” as if copying Loki’s actions, Dana slowly leaned toward him, grinning victoriously, and then slightly tilted her head to the side and licked his cheek. In the very place where she recently left him with four bleeding scratches. If Loki was taken aback, then the expression of pain on his face successfully hid it. "Sweet dr-r-reams, tr-r-rickster-r-r."

She disappeared in the same place from which she appeared.

Loki has been laying there for a few more minutes, afraid to lift a finger. He had never experienced such pain. This is probably why the Valkyries were considered an elite squad: you can't do such harm to them. She only dealt one blow, but now the whole body ached.

_Damn this woman_ , thought the trickster again. This time there was no scent of admiration. Yeah, next time it will be necessary to immobilize not only her arms, but also her legs, and, probably, everything else too. Including her tongue. Loki closed his eyes. Despite the whole current situation, he was very bad at feeling just annoyance with Dana. _Especially_ after the whole current situation. This woman was able to plunge him from one emotion to another with just one look. _Damn her_...


	19. Internal control and internal disorder

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter is smaller than I planned it to be, so I'm gonna upload a new one sooner.

Dana was angry all the time. It was her natural state, one might say. There was always something (or someone) with which (who) she was even a little bit dissatisfied with. What was rare was when Dana was angry... with herself. And these rare moments she truly hated. When Dana was dissatisfied with someone, she made it very unequivocally clear: either with the help of her claws, or with the help of her tongue. Of course, she was not going to sharpen her own claws on herself, as well as to argue with herself. At least out loud. When she was dissatisfied with herself (which, again, happened extremely rarely), the woman had to put things in order in her thoughts and feelings (if any).

_I kissed him..._ she thought, lying on the bed and looking at the ceiling. _Like a cat, of course, but I kissed him anyway. The question is: what the fuck?_

The events of yesterday evening haunted the woman. She was especially worried about the fact that she kissed the trickster, albeit in her own way. Not that she attached so much importance to kisses, she didn't really care about this (after all, what is a simple kiss for a woman who sometimes uses sex as an excuse to meet?). But she was very much soared about _who_ she kisses (or who she meets), _how_ and, not less importantly, _when_.  
  


Dana is always in control of the process. Even during the most breathtaking sex, when the pleasure is so strong that one can not feel a broken arm, even then some part of her consciousness - one might say, the hind mind - seems to be observing everything that happens from the side. Just like a judge at a game. It is this “inner observer” who never allows her to be taken by surprise. Dana is always, _always_ on guard and keeps everything under control.  
  


However, yesterday the system seems to have crashed. That "feline" kiss happened by itself. She didn't even think about kissing the trickster, and Dana always thinks before taking action. At that moment, she was relaxed. Completely. For the first time in a very, _very_ long time. Yes, emotions were seething in her: she was hungry, aroused and, as a result, fucking angry; however, her hind mind - the part of her consciousness that never loses its vigilance - went blank. And when it turned on, it was shocked. And the shock, by the way, has not completely passed yet.  
  


But the "system crash" was only half the trouble. Okay, her hind mind suddenly passed out with some kind of fright, okay, she acted automatically, not thinking about what she was doing, but why did she choose this from all possible actions? Why, instead of, for example, biting off half of the trickster's ear, she kissed him?  
  


 _Moreover, to the same place where I scratched him… As if licking his wound_ , Dana swallowed. Her tongue still tasted of his blood. _It smelled like... caring_.

Thoughts like these made her grimace as if from drinking vinegar. Caring... Hell no! She doesn't care about this trickster. It's all to blame for anger and sexual frustration.

_After all, this bastard tore me away from sex, which I have not had… for a long time,_ the woman repeated to herself. _I was all on edge, and he was laying under me, writhing in pain, moaning... How could I resist? And his smell..._

Dana sighed in displeasure. This was another problem. The smell of trickster attracted her. Of course, to say that some person smells like apples, or pine needles, or anything else, would be fundamentally wrong, because people's smells are completely different from all of the above. People smell... like people. A human smells like a human, an Asgadian - like an Asgardian, and so on according to the list. It's just each of them, except for the "base" which allows you to determine the species, has special, characteristic only for him alone notes. They also do not smell like apples, cinnamon, nuts, flowers, and so on. However, due to the fact that most people cannot smell these smells, they cannot give them separate names, and therefore poets and writers, reaching the description, have to resort to comparisons to what most people can smell.

So, if you speak in human language, and not in feline language, then in the smell of Loki there were notes similar in smell to mint. Mint - it's not, of course, valerian or a catnip, but its smell is also very attractive to cats, and therefore to Dana.  
  


 _However, the smell is the only thing that attrac… that I lik… ahem, his only tolerable trait, here,_ the brown-haired woman assured herself. _Everything else about this trickster pisses me off. Especially this smug smile of his_... 

Dana recalled how this bastard had smiled like a Cheshire Cat yesterday, amused by her anger. The woman recalled how the trickster kept grinning after she had scratched his cheek, after she had laid him down on his shoulder blades and straddled him, pinning his hands... well, his hand to the floor. Oh, just how badly she wanted to erase that smug grin from his pretty face... Only, for some reason, not with the help of her claws, but teeth.

Goose bumps ran down her spine as she remembered a sudden urge to bite the trickster's grinning lips into blood. Dana remembered well how she sat astride him, growling in her belly, and the thoughts flashed in her head. For example, to stop pressing one hand of the trickster to the floor with her own, and instead run it over his forearm, pressing harder on the bite site. Then over the shoulder, his neck, scratched cheek. To run her fingers into long black strands, clench them into a fist, then pull his hair painfully, watching the man under her quietly hiss from unpleasant sensations. Then to bend over, inhaling his scent, run her tongue over pale skin, tasting it, and bite her teeth into those ever-grinning lips, biting them to the blood...  
  


 _Oh. Fuck_. flashed through Dana's head. The feeling she was experiencing at the moment was something between doom and horror. And excitation. Her pulse quickened, her lips parted slightly, catching air, and somewhere in the region of her lower back a familiar warmth began to emerge, which quickly went up the spine, causing a wave of goose bumps, and tightened in a tight knot in her stomach. The woman almost groaned, either with excitement or with a sense of doom. _I. Want. Him. I'm. Fucking. Attracted. To this bastard_. 

"Fuck..."

As strange as it may sound, there really were rules for Dana. Even more than that, there were rules that she didn't break. For example, she had a rule not to have sex with two categories of people: those who are married (she's a lecher, not a home wrecker); and those who Dana works with (she never really liked office romances, they are such troublemakers). And now her mind was busy figuring out if the trickster fell into one of the categories.

_The devil knows if this bastard is married or not. Of course, I did not see his wedding ring, but how do I know how they get married in Asgard. Hardly married. Otherwise, I think, someone would mention it at least once. As for the category of co-workers..._ the woman pondered, continuing to examine the ceiling, although for all the time she devoted to this occupation, she had already managed to learn every smallest detail of it by heart. _To tolerate him, of course, is not an easy job, but I don’t think he can be considered a colleague at work. After all, we are all unemployed here, if it comes to that_.

"Fuck," this time the word sounded more distinct.

To say that Dana did not like her current situation is to say nothing. She desperately wanted to start a short-term relationship of an intimate and extremely depraved nature for unknown reasons (to find out which she had not the slightest desire) with a trickster, who infuriated her like no one and nothing else. And worst of all, she had nothing to stop herself, because the trickster did not fall under any of the categories.

There are no excuses for herself. There's a desire. There's a choice. There's a responsibility. Which she'll have to carry herself. As always.

_If you think about it, it's not such a bad idea - to succumb to temptation. After all, he doesn't look like someone who's not familiar with the concept of "one-night stand." Moreover, I'm really attracted to him. I don't know why on Earth, but I really do. And he's attracted to me as well, judging by how his smell changes and pupils expand. And, he's attracted badly,_ the last thoughts quite indulged her self-love and she even allowed herself to smile a little. _But on the other hand, we still have a hell of a lot of time till we reach the Earth. Which means I will have to deal with him **after** an affair as well. Not my favorite thing to do. "Fuck- thanks - bye" I like more than "fuck - thanks -bye - hello again". However... What's wrong with that? It is unlikely that there will be a big stage - there is no reason for it. If you think about it, the worst thing that can happen is if the trickster suddenly has a false idea about the motives of my, hmm... **possible** action. But if you put all the dots above the "i" before..._  
  


It was at this moment that she was suddenly pierced by the realization that she was now seriously considering having sex with with someone who just yesterday she wanted to scratch out their eye. Moreover, the scales were leaning more towards the "for" than "against".  
  


Dana groaned discontentedly, closing her eyes. She just had to think about that feline kiss, didn't she?  
  


"At this rate," she murmured under her breath, "I'm going to need a word stronger than fuck."

* * *

Brunnhilde woke up and realized that she had had enough sleep. She slept mainly because she fell asleep in relative silence, and this very relative silence lasted all night. It could be only one of two things: either Hulk did not sleep all night, or he did slept, but somewhere very, very far from here.

_Whichever option it is, thanks_ , the Valkyrie thought, getting out of bed. _The rest of the tenants of the hotel, I'm sure, now think the same._

Brunnhilde went to the chair, on which she folded her clothes yesterday before getting lost in a deep sleep (she went to bed early to give her body at least a couple of hours of rest before Hulk starts snoring), and began to pull on her ammunition...

_Stop there_ , she froze when she realized what she was wearing. It was the Valkyrie armor. Her clothes. Her, not Dana's. _Could it be_...

Without bothering to properly put on clothes, the woman ran to the bathroom, sometimes stammering in order to pull up the ammunition, looked in the mirror and could not hold back a sigh of relief. She looked at her reflection. Dana's face, of course, was a rather pleasant object of observation, but her own dear physiognomy was much better.  
  


"Thanks the gods…" the Valkyrie muttered, and then her face suddenly froze with an impenetrable expression.  
  


To her own horror, Brunnhilde discovered that the first thought that crossed her mind after realizing that the trickster's illusions were finally dispelled was that Dana did killed Loki.

Fortunately, the whole absurdity of such a thought came to her almost as quickly. Loki, of course, infuriated Dana to no end, it would have been understood even by a blind-deaf-dumb one. During their gazing-games, the tension in the air increased so much that sometimes it seemed if you wave your hand between their faces, it will get a burn of at least a fourth degree... But “kill” was used by Dana only as a verbal threat. Though sometimes, looking at her, it was hard to believe in it. But Brunnhilde knew her friend well enough to know for sure: no matter how much Loki infuriated her, Dana would not kill him. It’s not in her nature. Yes, she can insult you in such a way that you wish to fall through the ground straight to Hell, she can threaten you with reprisals so cruel that she would make any torture master doubt his own qualifications, she can pin you to the ground with just one look, she can scratch, she can bite, she can hit, she can cause serious damage, even cripple you for the rest of your life. The Valkyrie has seen everything from this list, but she has never seen her friend actually kill someone. Dana was many things, but never a murderer.

_Unlike, for example, me,_ Brunnhilde thought bitterly, continuing to put on her ammunition. So white and clean... you can hardly say that once this armor was all smeared with blood and dirt. _Or the same Loki, judging by the stories of Bruce and Thor. The latter, by the way, is also far from a saint... Heh, even funny: we are all a bit afraid of Dana... well, why everyone? Except Thor - he is just terrified of her. Anyway. The point is that we consider her character nasty, we call her a bitch, and Loki probably calls her even worse things. Although she is the... kindest of us all, or what? Gods, it even sounds strange... But it is so: we all - except for Bruce, maybe - have taken so many lives that cannot be counted, and not only because of self-defense or the protection of loved ones. While she may have spoiled the lives of more than a hundred people, but did not kill them, blindly obeying someone else's orders or out of irrepressible ambition. At the same time, we, who left behind mountains of corpses, consider ourselves good and try to look like that in the eyes of others, while Dana, who does not approve of even fur clothes, openly declares her flaws to the whole world_.

This always surprised the Valkyrie: her friend knew how to manipulate facts in such a way that the mass-media could only cry on the sidelines, but there was not a drop of pretense in herself. Dana never tried to look like someone she wasn't. She didn't try to prove anything to anyone. She didn't care what others thought of her at all. Even if this “other” was Brünnhilde - her close friend. No, when it came to her, Dana didn't care about anyone's opinion except her own. On the one hand, the Valkyrie admired this, because there were few such people. But sometimes it terrified her. Because if Dana gets something bad into her head, then no one and nothing will be able to stop her.

_However, she is sorting out her thoughts well,_ Brunnhilde reminded herself. _Dana does not allow to throw anything into her head, and twirl herself too. Her inner control is something incredible..._  
  


It was absolutely true. Dana may seem hot-tempered (and she was like this), especially if you remember their skirmish with Loki, but the Valkyrie knew that all, _absolutely_ all the actions of a woman were performed with full awareness of what was happening. Even when beside herself with anger, Dana seemed to have... some unshakable part inside her which was responsible for the constant control of everything: both her actions and her emotions. Dana never panicked. It was almost impossible to catch her off guard. She could always calm herself, no matter how mad she was. Though she did this very rarely, arguing that she should not accumulate negative emotions in herself. But the fact remains: the self-control of this woman was unmatched. It towered in Dana's head as a huge impregnable wall.  
  


And this worried Brünnhilde most of all. She may not have had the same amount of knowledge and wisdom as her friend, but she had enough life experience to know that such walls are not built for no reason. No, they are being built in order not to let anyone in.  
  


Or not to let anyone out.

"All right. Enough of such thinking, " said the Valkyrie to herself, heading for the exit from the room. "I need to check whether repair work has finally begun on our poor kitchenette. Poor guys. Given that Dana ate away at their nerves at the expense of the color of kitchen cabinets."  
  


Closing the door with a key and leaving the warm lobby of the hotel, Brunnhilde made a mental note to herself, just in case, to ask some passers-by if they had heard a very loud prolonged snoring that night. After all, once the team from the furniture store that she and Dana visited during their shopping finishes updating the interior of their pilot block's small kitchen, it’s time for them to hit the road. It will be necessary not to forget to warn everyone.


	20. Home alone.  Interplanetary scale.

Something was wrong.

Loki did not quite understand what exactly he was expecting - with Dana it is always difficult to make any predictions - but certainly not silence. Whether it was just the silence or just the calm before the storm, he did not know either. All that he knew was that a woman, for some reason only known to her (as, indeed, any other woman), decided... to calm down. For the last three days, Dana behaved as quiet as a mouse: no loud music, no movies, no dancing. Hell! Yesterday she even did not spend the night in her room at all - Loki was sure of that, because he did not sleep until her door slammed, which happened only in the morning.

After that evening (the trickster jerked every time he thought of him) they did not speak. They barely even intersected. Loki sometimes saw Dana in the dining room when he was having lunch and she was having breakfast. Or when he was having dinner and she was having lunch. And during each of their meetings, the woman looked thoughtful. Sometimes it even seemed to him that he could hear the gears spinning in her head... or was it cockroaches?  
  


Sometimes - and "sometimes" meant twice maximum - Dana glanced at him. She looked intently, with a squint, as if the trickster were some kind of difficult puzzle that she could not solve and from which, as a result, she was irritated.  
  


However, Loki looked at her in the same way, trying to understand what was happening in her head. And in his head he kept replaying the events of “that” evening. Even though he felt uneasy every time the "film" of memories reached the most painful moment. However, no matter how many times the trickster watched this "film", no matter how carefully he analyzed every movement and every line, he could not understand what he said or did that would make Dana behave this way. Yes, perhaps there was a certain sexual context in that skirmish, but he would rather believe that Volstagg - may his soul feasts in Valhalla - went on a diet than that Dana could be embarrassed by such things. She was a walking personification of shamelessness and debauchery! No special actions that could have any strange effect on this woman, Loki did not do either. She, on the other hand...  
  


His hand went automatically to his right cheek. Only four barely visible stripes remained from scratches, which will disappear by evening. But they were not the point. Loki remembered how she licked his cheek. At that moment, of course, he was not quite in a state to, let's say, feel the moment, but now when he no longer curses his male physiology...

She was so close... the trickster recalled how she slowly leaned over to him with that smug victorious smile. She was so close. He could feel her hot breath on his face. Could feel the heat coming from her skin. Could smell her scent. Her hair - never collected in any semblance of a hairstyle - tickled his face and neck and seemed so soft. If it wasn't for the pain, he'd probably try to touch it with his hand. And then she licked his cheek - in the same place where she had left scratches for minutes - cleaning the blood with her hot, slightly rough, wet tongue. Loki didn't mind feeling that tongue again. Everywhere. But first of all, in his mouth.  
  


He suddenly wanted to kiss her madly. To sink into her beautiful, eternally grinning lips, bury his fingers in those thick, soft hair and kiss, kiss, kiss her until his lungs run out of air, and then again, and again...  
  


There was a crackling glass. Moments later, Loki felt sharp shards in his palm, previously holding a cup.

"Damn this woman," he said in a whisper, looking at his bloodied fingers and breathing intermittently. No, he was definitely going crazy.

Loki began to pull the shards out of his palm, mentally thanking the fragility of the glass. The focus and discomfort helped bring his pulse and heart rate back to normal and beat the need for an ice cold shower.  
  


_Something must be done about this_ , thought the trickster, looking for the remaining fragments. Thoughts about Dana, of course, for the most part were more than pleasant, but lately they have occupied too much place in his mind. If earlier Loki mainly thought about what awaits them upon arrival on Earth, pondering plans for their arrangement on a new planet, then now almost all his thoughts were occupied by a woman who causes in him either the desire to strangle her, or the desire to draw her to him and never let go. Moreover,the desires replaced each other in less than a second. Dana gave him a real emotional roller coaster. _Until I finally lost my mind. Asgard needs at least someone with the ability to think analytically and critically. And this "someone" is clearly not Thor..._  
  


When he finished toiling with his hand, Loki looked at his clock. It was just over eleven in the morning. Their ship was leaving Bluin at one o'clock this afternoon. The trickster mentally checked his spacious pockets. Clothes - in place. The daggers - in place. The Tesseract - in place. Thirty kilograms of local tea - also in place.  
  


"I don’t seem to have forgotten anything," he said to himself and left the room. Finally leaving this damn planet.

* * *

"Have you counted everyone? Brunnhilde asked Thor.

“Yes, Heimdall said, all the Asgardians are in place,” the Thunder god replied. "I think you can take off."

"So, have you taken all your things?" the Valkyrie asked. "Did you leave anything in the parking lot? Or in a hotel?"

“No,” Loki replied. “This is the fourth time you've asked this."

"So, there is luggage, there is Asgard," Brunnhilde continued to mumble, missing the last phrase on deaf ears, "fuel was poured, food was purchased. What else... kitchen, inspection... Bottles. Are the bottles in place?"

"Yes, your dear booze is in place," Dana responded displeasingly, sitting on one of the panels. "All twelve boxes... Why the Hell do you need so many? Are we going to use a part instead of a disinfectant? Or as a solvent? Although not, rather, as a chemical warfare substance."

"How about you stop grumble?"

“And how about you stop telling me what to do, sweetie?”

"Did you get up on the wrong foot today or what?" the Valkyrie asked. Dana was even more irritable than usual. Brunnhilde even had scheduled a flight for lunch time so that her friend could sleep off. What was wrong?

"More likely from the wrong bed," Loki replied.

The speed with which the woman turned her head in his direction could outflank an angry rattlesnake and send lightning into an unpleasant shock. The trickster, already accustomed to her gaze, didn't even flinch.

“Okay, okay, I'm requesting permission to take off,” the Valkyrie re-established communication with the dispatcher, and then, having received permission, turned on the loudspeaker. "Everyone, either buckle up, or grab onto something stronger. Don't forget about the children. We're taking off."

The ship began to take off. Brunnhilde carefully watched the radar: the visibility was simply disgusting due to thick gray clouds and snowfall, and no one wanted to bump into any other vehicle. It will not turn out very well, especially since the ship was recently repaired. Speaking of not very good thing...

_For some reason it seems to me that we have forgotten something,_ this unpleasant sensation haunted her from the very morning. _But for Odin's sake, I can’t figure out what it is…_

The ship began to shake. They crossed the layers of the atmosphere.

"Are you sure we took everything?" the Valkyrie asked again when the shaking ended.

“I think yes,” Thor replied. "Personally I didn't take anything with me at all."

"And yet, it seems to me that we have definitely forgotten something."

"Maybe you forgot to return the thermo-cloak?

"No."

"A sword?" Thor suggested, but then looked down. "No, here it is. Then... maybe you forgot to pay for the hotel?"

“No, that’s not it,” Brunnhilde replied.

"Then what else could we forget?"

“I don’t know about you, but I, for example, forgot to have breakfast,” Dana responded with displeasure, jumping off the panel. "Rather, not forgot, but did not have time. So, feel free to continue enjoying your premature sclerosis, and I'll go to the kitchen and have something to eat before Hulk destroys this stock of produce as well..."

And then there was silence. It was that special kind of silence that occurs when the realization suddenly reaches everyone at the same time. Moreover, not the most pleasant realization.

Dana took a few deep breaths, sniffing.

“Fuck…” she said quietly.

“We forgot Hulk,” Brunnhilde finally realized.

* * *

Considering that most of the planet consists of MMDB (Miles and Miles of Damn Bluin), namely dense blue forests, mountain slopes, gorges, ravines, as well as mountain rivers and frozen lakes, if Bluin had his own version of the "Red Book", then it would most likely include people (in the broad sense, of course), as the smallest species of the local fauna. But there was none, so no one kept track of who and how much remained. The local population has nothing else to do but count the animals, or what?

However, let's imagine that such a book does exists. So, the first number in it will be, as we have already found out, the natives of Bluin, walking on two legs and cursing their homeland in vain every morning. After them there would be a list of animals, either feeding on pasture, or not large enough. If the local population was interested in these representatives of the fauna a little more, they would know that among them there are several subspecies, of which there were less than a billion (a very small number for such a huge planet as Bluin). These subspecies included, for example, black vassas, threehorns, silvery snow-miners, and a few other names that hardly tell you anything.  
  


These animals differed quite strongly among themselves, both in size and in their habitat: vassas - long-haired artiodactyls - lived on the mountain slopes, threehorns - some other artiodactyls, but with horns (the number of these horns, I think, is not difficult to guess) - preferred flat surfaces (and there were few of them on this planet), and snow-miners - nimble animals, somewhat reminiscent of hares - spent most of their lives in holes and under the snow. However, they all had something in common: all of these subspecies were included in the diet of the bergs.

Bergs, being at the top of the local food chain, did a lot for the local rare species. First of all, they made sure that they remained rare. Bergs themselves, being not particularly whimsical creatures, lived everywhere and were one of the most numerous representatives of the Bluin's fauna.  
  


At least until recently.  
  


Somewhere from the thicket, a loud whine was heard, which was quickly followed by a loud joyful: "Hulk - smash!". After which there was one berg less on Bluin.  
  


So, returning to the "Red Book". If its analogue existed on this planet too, then Hulk, just like top predators, would also have contributed to it, namely, he would have added one more species to the "Rare" column - bergs.  
  


And, who knows? Maybe in a month or two, thanks to Hulk, this species could be transferred from the "Red Book" to the "Black Book".

* * *

"How could this happen?" the Valkyrie was indignant, walking up and down the cockpit. "Thor, I told you, when you see Hulk, tell him that we are leaving today!"  
  


"I did not see him. We almost did not intersect lately," he said in his defense. "Maybe, he just went for a walk?"  
  


"For three days?"  
  


“For a very long walk,” Thor corrected. "Or for a short one, but then he got lost."  
  


Everyone looked at the slowly spinning, silvery-blue planet. It was the size of Jupiter, no less.  
  


“If so, finding him will not be an easy task,” said Loki thoughtfully. He remembered Hulk waving him like a flag at some city-day. Then he remembered snoring which was able to drown out even the sound of a jet engine. “Almost impossible,” he added in an inappropriately cheerful tone. "Even if we now return to this damn planet, split up and search day and night, we will still fail. The territory is too large, and Hulk is hardly sitting quietly in one place, so our chances are one in a million, if not less. Nothing will come of it.” the trickster's eyes almost shone with joy. "To our great regret, of course."

"I see, you just can't wait to start looking," Dana quipped, and then turned to Brunnhilde. "Is that hat yellow swallow for orgies still on the fly, or have you already ditched it with your piloting?"  
  


"You mean the second ship of the Grandmaster?" the brown-haired woman nodded. "Of course it works. And why would you ask?"  
  


“Because I'm not in the mood for making a path right now. Moreover, of the size of Hulk."  
  


Three… um, or rather, two and a half pairs of eyes immediately settled on her. Dana stared at them in response like: "The fuck are you staring?" Thor was the first to recover from shock.  
  


"You," he began somehow uncertainly, "are going to go after Hulk?"  
  


"Oh, just look at it! Our goldilocks learned to add two plus two, congratulations! Take a candy from the shelf."  
  


"Why?" asked the Valkyrie. "We can just land the ship..."  
  


"And?" Dana interrupted her. "Shall we waste a lot of time for all this tourist nonsense again? No thanks! I will do it faster by my own."  
  


"Are you going to go alone?"  
  


"Yes, and what? You’re no use there anyway. Look, sweetie, I have a much more developed sense of smell than yours (and I'm sure smell is the only "footprint" our green fellow left), and I'm not afraid of the cold. On the other hand, you will turn into icicles without thermo-coats, which, by the way, will also have to be waited for. Therefore..."  
  
  


"I'll go with her," Loki declared.

In the ensuing silence, it seemed that a loud knock could be discerned. It was Thor and Brunhilde who dropped their jaws to the floor.  
  


"And why the hell do I need you there, trickster?" finally answered Dana. In her voice, in addition to the usual irritation, one could discern curious notes.  
  


“Someone will have to land the ship normally,” he shrugged.  
  


“He's right, by the way,” the Valkyrie agreed with him. If there was one thing her friend did worse than driving, it was piloting. And landing.  
  


“Huh,” the woman snorted. “You'd think I'm a bad pilot."  
  


“No, I’m the bad pilot,” Brunnhilde replied. "And you, friend, a shitty pilot."  
  


"Come on, don't exaggerate."  
  


“On Sakaar, you were blacklisted at almost all air stations."  
  


“That's because I landed without permission."  
  


“That's because you scratched all the other ships while landing. And that's the best case, ”the Valkyrie corrected her. “Plus, the two of you won't be so bored."  
  


Loki and Dana looked at each other. The look they exchanged made it clear that the difference between its recipient and a dead lizard was only in color.  
  


Still, without interrupting eye contact, they said at the same time:

"Don't even doubt that."


	21. First date

Thor and Brünnhilde watched as a small starship - with a very dubious reputation - approached a huge blue and white ball called Bluin. They looked and wondered: will the ship explode or not? Or whether one of its passengers will fly out of it into open space, and without a spacesuit.

“What do you think,” Thor began, not taking his eyes off the retreating vehicle, “is there a chance they will return?

“They’ll come back, you can be sure of that,” answered the Valkyrie, also looking out the windshield. "The only question is how many of them."

"And in what state."

"True."

The starship flew so far that it turned into a small yellow dot. So, the transport has not yet exploded, which is good news.

"Their behavior did not seem to you..." the thunder god pondered, "strange?"

"Sarcasm, discontent, staring contest... No, everything was the same. Though, it didn't come to assaults, which is a little strange indeed, given that Dana's mood today is even more irritable than usual," Brunnhilde suddenly thought. "Although, you know... she agreed rather quickly. And that doesn't really sound like her."

"Maybe you managed to convince her?"

"Convince? Dana? Hell no! It's easier to nail the water to the wall! It is impossible to force her to do anything, unless she herself wants to..." the Valkyrie stopped. The thought machine sped up, and the light bulb in her brain finally lit up. "Oh."

"What?" the mechanism in Thor's head seems to have decided to take a lunch break.

"No, nothing," she dismissed, still being in a kind of shock from her recent conclusion. How the hell she managed to come up with such a thought... The worst thing was that this conclusion was, so far, the most reasonable. "And what seemed strange to you?"

“Loki isn't really fond of this planet,” 'not really fond of', of course, was a big understatement of all the feelings that Bluin awakened in the trickster, but that's not the point. “And he doesn't like the Hulk either,” another even greater understatement. “However, he still went to this planet again to find the Hulk. Moreover, he went there with Dana..." the thunder god remembered something and immediately rushed to add: "No, of course, your friend is cool and all that, she's just a little... well... kind of..."

"Self-confident, arrogant, shameless and unscrupulous bitch with a hot temper and sharp tongue?"

"And with very sharp claws,” Thor added. "In all, I do not understand why Loki agreed... not even agree, no, _volunteered_. Moreover, he _insisted_ on this when Dana objected."

"Well, I wouldn't call that an objection…” the Valkyrie said doubtfully. "If she were really categorically against the company, she would not agree even at gunpoint to her head. Although, I must confess, I would be interested to look at that unfortunate idiot who would risk threatening her. No, there must be something else here..."

Brunnhilde pondered. She may not have known Loki as well as Thor (although she had some doubts about the latter's awareness in this area too), but she knew him enough to understand that the trickster does nothing for nothing. So, if the words of the thunder god about his brother's dislike for Bluin and the Hulk are true, then Loki went there not to admire the views and not to save the green revenger. The Valkyrie quickly walked through the memories. The trickster was clearly not very enthusiastic about his arrival on this planet, and he avoided the Hulk in all possible ways, so here Thor was right. In that case, there was only...

"Has your brother ever told you," the Valkyrie began, "how he feels about Dana?"

Thor looked at her in genuine surprise.

"Um, no. He and I, to be honest, haven't talked that much lately," the thunder god shrugged. “But you yourself saw their behavior. They can't stand each other. It is obvious."

_Is it so?_ the Valkyrie thought to herself. Loki and Dana did not get along very well, that's true, but for those who can hardly tolerate each other's company, they spend too much time together, though in arguments or fights. If they were disgusted with each other's company, wouldn't it be easier not to intersect with each other at all? But no, these two, on the contrary, seemed to be looking for a meeting, a reason to argue once again. And then the arguments turned into fights. And recently, fights turned into... magical competitions, or what? They were like... Like probing each other. Learning. Getting to know each other better. Just in their own way.

_They don't hate each other_ , Brünnhilde realized. _Quite the contrary, they... like each other?_

This thought made the Valkyrie look at the situation from a completely different angle. Dana volunteers to go in search of the Hulk. Loki doesn't react in any way. Dana says she is leaving _alone_. Loki suddenly volunteers. Dana doesn't tell him no. She, of course, grumbles - as always - but rather only for show. If she was against the company, she would immediately refuse.  
  


 _Company… That's what made Loki volunteer. He wanted to spend time with Dana. **Alone**_ the pieces of the mosaic have finally begun to form a picture. - _Loki offers Dana to spend time together. This is an **invitation**. And she doesn't tell him no. And this, in her language, is almost the most official **consent**. Oh Gods_…

Brunnhilde could not stand it and laughed, which greatly surprised Thor who was standing next to her. Her laughter was loud, lively and, truth be told, a little hysterical. She continued to laugh, holding on to her stomach, until tears flowed from her eyes with laughter. How could she not have guessed right away...  
  


"Are you, um... - Thor's hand froze in uncertainty halfway to the Valkyrie's shoulder. He happened to calm down crying girls, but so that crying and laughing at the same time... this was the first time Odinson encountered such a thing. "Are you sure you're fine?"  
  


“I… ha-ha-ha… I think I understood what happened,” the Valkyrie said through laughter. “I can't believe it… ha-ha-ha… Your brother... Loki just asked Dana out on a date! And she... ha-ha-ha... She agreed!"

* * *

The atmosphere inside the yellow starship was so tense that the latter went into emergency mode every now and then. Loki coped with the duties of a pilot more than tolerably, and Dana took over the duties of a navigator officer, that is, did not allow the person sitting at the helm to fall asleep. She did it simply: by keeping the trickster in an inflated state.

"We are entering the atmosphere, turn on the cooling panels! I hope I don't need to explain how to do this?..."  
  


"Don't you want to lower the altitude? Because of the clouds, not a damn thing is visible..."  
  


"Are you going to turn on the wipers? Can't you see how much snow there is?..."  
  


"Just for how long are you gonna bother with this bloody radar? Is it your first time at the helm, or what?..."

_I'll kill her_ , Loki thought, gripping the helm so that it probably had dents in the shape of his fingers. He barely kept his own tongue behind his teeth, knowing that if an argument ensued between them, it would not end well. What started out as a regular snowfall when they left Uinbjerg at lunchtime had turned into a huge blizzard in a few hours, and now visibility - whether above or below the bloody clouds, whether with or without bloody windshield wipers - was nil. And if the trickster allowed become distracted by an argument, he may not notice, say, a mountain and smash the starship to hell. _I'll strangle this pest_ , he tried to soberly assess his chances of at least getting to her neck. _Or at least shut her up with something. At least I'll try_. 

Loki stared at the radar, now and then glancing at the navigator and the windshield. The ship's headlights did not help much, because all they illuminated was falling snow flakes. A huge amount of snow that stuck to the glass despite the wipers turned on at maximum. The navigator showed that it was still a couple of hours to fly to Uinbjerg.

And then the navigator suddenly turned off. So did the radar. And most of the lighting is inside the ship. Only the engine and panel illumination worked.

_Looks rather familiar to me_ … Loki recalled the day (or rather, evening) when the pilot unit was powered off and the Valkyrie sent him and Thor to deal with the problem. Now this very problem was sitting on the next seat and frowning with displeasure. Silently. _Well, now her "do this, do that" would be welcome_.

“Looks like something's damaged,” Dana finally said. "Probably because of the snow storm."

"Well, aren't you just a genius!"

"Well, I'm surely smarter than some!" she replied.

"However now there is little use from your smartness!" 

"You must land before we have an accident. Do you see any landing site?"

"I don't see a shit!"

"Well, then go down. The ground is below!"

"Do you know what else is below? Trees, mountains, lakes and other local attractions that are not very pleasant to land on!"

"As for me, an unpleasant landing is better than a crash landing!"

"With the local landscape, these two concepts may well turn out to be synonyms!"

"Well, since the catastrophe is inevitable, I would prefer to meet it on the ground, not in the air!"

"I did not say that a catastrophe is inevitable! But if we keep on flying, even if in the wrong direction, we have a better chance!"

"Yeah, let's fly through the fuckin' snow and frost, until our engine also shuts down! Or until we're run out of fuel!"

"We have enough fuel! Plus, there's such a thing as refueling. Have you ever heard of such?"

"About refueling in the middle of the damn forest and mountains? No, I haven't!"

"With such visibility and with the radar off, it is dangerous to land, and except for the engine and the backlight, nothing works!"

"And flying at night during a snowstorm without the same radar, navigator and even fucking headlights with wipers is not dangerous?!"

"At least, in the air there is n... Oh shit!"

They nearly crashed a mountainside. From behind a solid wall of falling snow, the rock seemed to come out of nowhere. Loki managed to turn the helm, and the ship only perceptibly scratched sideways on solid rock. The panel lights blinked but did not turn off.  
  


Both passengers of the spaceship were silent for a while, frozen in place and breathing deeply.  
  


“Trickster,” Dana began in a calm tone. "We land the ship. Right now."

Loki didn't argue this time. He began the landing, trying to somehow see the landscape through the windshield and side windows almost entirely covered with snow. Truth be told, it turned out not very well. Most often, the crew learned about the presence of any objects under the ship from the squeak, tinkle, knock or shaking.

Loki had many titles: God of Lies, God of Chaos, God of Mischief, Trickster, Silvertongue, Reindeer Games (thanks Stark), son of Odin (which is controversial), son of Laufey (which is shameful) and maybe a few more the existence of which he either did not know or forgot. However, twenty minutes later, he could safely add to this list the title of the first pilot in the world to land a starship "by touch."

It was hard to say that the landing turned out to be neat, but it did turned out. And under their current circumstances, it could be considered a victory.

"And you wanted to go alone..."

"Shut up."

For some time they were silently staring into the windshield, the snow from which was almost completely swept away by the branches of many coniferous trees, into which they crashed during planting. However, after a few minutes, the snowfall again returned everything to square one.

"Yeah," this time it was Dana who broke the silence. "The searches of Hulk started rather... shitty."

"If you remember, I did said that the chances were one in a million."

"Then why the hell did you followed me? And don't even try to lie that you wanted to return our green snoring fellow."

"Wasn't even thinking of it," Loki shrugged. "I just wanted to see you fidget and get on people's nerves. But since when have you been participating in volunteering, and also in volunteering upon the return of the one who prevents you from sleeping?"

"We would have had to start looking anyway: your brother and my sweetie would hardly have agreed to continue the journey without him,” the woman replied, still looking out the window. There was not much to look at, but still... "And if I went alone, we would have saved time and medicines, because at least one of them would have gotten into something."

"Yeah, and now it's only you and me who got into some sh..."

"Shut up."

They fell silent again. The side windows were also covered with snow. The temperature inside was rapidly decreasing, but neither Dana nor Loki cared about this much: the former, with the help of magic, heated her body sufficiently so that the air around her would heat up too, and the latter was never bothered by cold anyway.

"You know,” the trickster began again, “this act of yours may well be considered caring."  
  


“Pf,” she snorted back. "Cut out this nonsense. I am practical, not caring."  
  


"Yes-yes, as you say," smiled Loki and added: "Who could know you were such a nic..."

She was in front of him almost instantly, with one leg still on the floor, and the other, bent at the knee, resting on the pilot's seat. Her face took a displeased grimace, and her eyes, with pupils dilated from the darkness, seemed to want to burn a hole in him. The woman held the trickster by the collar with her hand.

"Don't you dare call me nice,” she practically hissed in his face. "I'm not nice. Neither kind."

"And what are you then?" the trickster asked with the same smile. He certainly liked to piss off this woman.

"Exactly what I look like: sarcastic, confident, bitchy, egoistic..."

"Whoa, look who's lying now!"

"I'm not lying," she almost growled.

"As for an egoist, you care too much about your, as you put it, "sweetie"," the smile on his face widened. "In your own original way, of course, but you care. You value her so much. Love her so much. You were even ready to go here all alone so that your "sweetie" does not freeze..."

"Shu..."

Dana did not have time to finish. As soon as she opened her mouth, Loki immediately did what he dreamed of earlier this day: he ran his hand through the soft brown hair, pulled the woman to him and eagerly dug a kiss on her lips, which made Dana sigh in surprise (or indignantly).

However, the trickster did not care whether it was surprise or indignation. The main thing is that after a few seconds not a trace remained of it. Dana returned the kiss with a passion Loki had never encountered before. Her hot, slightly rough tongue did amazing things in his mouth. She was assertive. Aggressive. She bossed the show with her tongue in his mouth, crushing and biting his lips. And the trickster was not going to remain in debt...  
  


Thus, Loki received two new titles in less than a day: the first pilot who landed the spaceship "by touch", and the first man who managed to catch Dana by surprise.


	22. Absolutely all

It took Brunnhilde about half an hour to stop tearing her stomach with hysterical laughter. But Thor, in order to fully comprehend all that the Valkyrie said in the intervals between laughter and tears, it took... a little more.  
  


Now that they both returned to their normal (more or less) state, the two Asgardians still stood in front of the huge windshield of their equally huge ship, continuing to look at the ball slowly rotating around its axis, although the small yellow dot - the starship - has long been disappeared from sight.  
  


“What do you think,” Thor began, “they are doing now?

"On their first date?" the Valkyrie thought. There were many options in her head. She chose the most likely one, in her opinion. "Probably killing each other. Or at least trying to do so."

* * *

If Loki was in danger of dying now, then it was only because of a lack of oxygen in his lungs. He followed his script clearly: he crossed his fingers incredibly soft chocolate strands and kissed their owner as if he were at death, and her lips were the only cure. Trickster did not break away from her - he simply _couldn't_ \- until there was no air in his lungs. And then he kissed her again, and again, and again... Because to stop was simply _impossible_.

_Although_ , Loki thought, though now his brain - perhaps for the first time in a long time - was working even slower than Thor's. What Dana's tongue did in his mouth would deprive anyone of any normal thinking. And no one would even mind. _It does not look like any of us were going to back down_...

Loki felt women's hands pressing harder on his shoulders, and could not contain a groan as Dana, without interrupting the kiss, threw her leg over him and straddled his hips. The trickster's hand - the one that was not buried in the thick chestnut hair - snaked around a woman's waist.

_She is so hot_... Loki pulled her closer, pressing Dana close to his chest. In response, a subtle low sound came from her chest, and then her teeth sank into the trickster's upper lip, biting to blood, causing him to grimace slightly in pain. _Damn this woman_...

He did not remain in debt. His hand, the one previously playing with pleasure with soft hair, clenched the strands into a fist and pulled hard, forcing Dana to stop bleeding him - literally - and throw her head back a little. For several seconds Loki simply admired her face: multi-colored glare from the backlight of the panels flickered on the swarthy steaming-hot skin, lips slightly swollen from long kisses were a bit parted, and the usually oblong pupils dilated so much that only a thin gold rim remained of the iris. What a ravishing sight...

"You're not the first to say that,” she said in a low voice and a smug smirk on her puffy lips.  
  


Loki cursed inwardly. Thoughts aloud... Only that he lacked. Since when does he say exactly what he thinks? Damn this woman. This, damn her, delightfully gorgeous woman...

"I have no doubt about it. You are genuinely gorgeous. Although I must confess, you would look far more ravishing bound and gagged. Did any of your previous men tell you that biting is not a good thing?" he asked, licking the blood from his lip and noting to himself that the bite was almost completely healed now.

"Trickster," Dana whispered and began to slowly move her hips, and Loki's breath stopped for a second, "I did such things to them they would not care even about a gnawed throat."

"Is this just a guess or do you know for sure from life experience?"

"A guess. Although..." her fingers stopped gripping his shoulder and instead loosened his collar, then barely perceptibly walked up and down the trickster's neck, causing a wave of goosebumps in him. "I don't mind at all gaining life experience too."

"As much as I like your beautiful, albeit full of poison mouth, and what you do with it,” Loki pulled the soft strands clenched into his fist, forcing the woman to throw her head back more and leaned towards her neck. He was so grateful she didn’t wear that turtleneck... He slowly drew a line from her jugular cavity to the delicate skin under her chin with the tip of his nose and left a wet kiss there, causing Dana to sigh loudly. Loki chuckled, memorizing the sensitive spot. Today he was going to find them all. “But I still like my throat safe and sound. Yours, on the contrary… ” the trickster's lips moved to the point where her pulse was beating. This time the kiss was less gentle. He clearly intended to leave a mark there. "Can be embellished a little."

"You wanted to sa... ah," another kiss, stronger than the previous one, right next to the earlobe, "spoiled?"

"I know what I wanted to say,” the trickster whispered in her ear and bit her earlobe. After researching the area more thoroughly with his tongue, Loki discovered that she was not wearing any earrings. Moreover, the ears were not even pierced.

Come to think of it, he had never seen Dana wear any jewelry at all. However, thinking was now the last thing he was going to do, especially thinking about such things as jewelers. And to be completely honest, he had no intentions to think about them at all. Certainly not now, when in his hands he was holding a gorgeous, hot (literally) woman who makes such sweet sounds every time he stumbles upon a particularly sensitive spot, and of them trickster has already found a decent amount. And it's just the neck...

However, Dana also found a sensitive spot in him and was now fidgeting on it in the most provocative way. Loki's hand, holding her around the waist, clenched harder, either encouraging or trying to force her to sit still.

Be that as it may, no one was going to sit still. The woman slowly ran her hands over his shoulders, then up his neck, lightly touched the trickster's face with hot fingers and then ran both hands into his hair, scratching the scalp with her nails. Loki exhaled loudly against her collarbones. He had no idea if Dana had just an incredible sexual experience (although "seniority" would be more appropriate here), or if he just hadn't had this experience for too long, but he couldn't remember when it was last time he felt as good as now. Not even good, no. _Delightful_. And they were both fully clothed...

_Speaking of clothes_ … the trickster looked with some displeasure at the white fabric of the tank-top - the same one that was on her in their first meeting. Dropping his hand from the crook of her waist to her hip, he felt the rough fabric of the jeans against the palm of his hand. Somewhere in the backyard of the subconscious, the realization flashed that Dana now looks the same as on the day (night) of their meeting. Except, perhaps, shoes. But that was not the point now. What was really important was that the clothes got in the way, to put it mildly. First of all, Dana's clothes. _We shall to fix it_ …

And he fixed it. And he was immediately pulled painfully by the hair.  
  


“I hope,” the woman hissed quietly, “that your dimensional pockets are in order, and not as is usually the case in bachelor apartments. I would love to have my top and jeans back."  
  


"How did you..." he wanted to ask how she understood what exactly he did with her clothes - and not with _all_ the clothes, as he suddenly realized, stumbling across the lace underwear - but decided that they could chat later. "You'll get them back, don't be afraid."  
  


“It's not me who should be afraid."

Loki chose to leave this phrase unanswered. Taking the fact it was him and Dana, they had every chance of losing themselves not in carnal pleasures, but in another verbal skirmish. It's not that he doesn't like their arguments, just in order to be a worthy opponent, you need to be able to think well and quickly. And in the given circumstances, Loki could emerge victorious from an intellectual duel only with Thor. And that is not a fact. Half-naked Dana, continuing to pull back his strands and teasingly move her hips, deprived the trickster of the ability to think normally.  
  


Loki finally stopped holding her by the hair and, pulling back slightly from her, ran his fingertips from her left shoulder to her chest, partially hidden by purple lace, and put his hand to where the heart was. At least where it supposedly should have been: many doubted the existence of this woman's heart (and not without reason).

"Heh," he smiled with satisfaction, feeling a rhythmic beating under his palm. "And you are not heartless at all."

"Are you surprised?" she asked, raising her eyebrow.

"I guessed," he said, removing his hand from her chest and immediately snuggling his lips at her, leaving another long wet kiss. "I did said you were a ni..."

Dana pulled Loki by the hair with force and gagged him in the same way as he did not so long ago, biting his lip to the blood again. Her nails again began to scratch his scalp, but this time harder, with the firm intention of delivering more unpleasant sensations than pleasant ones. Yes, this woman made her displeasure very clear.  
  


Although, if she continues to show her displeasure in this way, Loki was ready to spoil her mood all day and night. Even though there was a high probability that he would bleed out of constant bites.  
  


Dana's fingers finally left his hair alone and now they were trying to deal with his clothes. And judging by the low uterine sounds that she was making through a kiss, the attempts did not have the desired success. For a second he could swear he had disassembled: "Damn Asgardian threads..." It made him grin through a kiss, which didn't go unnoticed. The woman stopped tormenting his lips (not that he was particularly against...) and looked at him with a disgruntled squint.

"I can't do the same trick with your… ammunition that you did with my clothes,” she said. “So, trickster, either you use your magic, or I use my claws and teeth."

"Well, if you ask so...", a couple of seconds of green overflow and no trace of clothes remained. "Are you satisfied?"

Loki, for example, was more than satisfied with the view before him.

"I don't remember asking you to remove my clothes as well."

"I decided to simplify my life a little as well," the trickster shrugged his shoulders and smiling outlined with his fingers the outline of her full breasts, no longer hidden by what in Midgard, by some huge misunderstanding, is called clothing. "Or did you want me to use my teeth?"

“Perhaps,” she replied with a sly grin.  
  


“You don’t have a single drop of shame, do you?"

"Not the tiniest one."

"Perfect."

Loki did not hesitate and pressed his hand on her chest, forcing Dana to lean back a little, and then pressed his lips to one of the elastic, tanned breasts. One of his hands returned to the soft golden-chestnut hair, and the other, slightly stroking her bare thigh, quickly disappeared between the slender legs. Long dexterous fingers knew perfectly well what to do and how in order to snatch from the woman's throat lingering moans one after another.  
  


“So wet…” the trickster said contentedly, switching from one breast to another. Deciding to give Dana a taste of her own pills, he bit her nipple a little harder than needed, forcing her to tighten around his fingers and let out a short cry. Loki was pleased with the result. "Like to bite others, but do not like it when they bite you, hm?"  
  


In response, the woman just squeezed his shoulders with her fingers, leaving marks from the nails on the pale skin, and then one of her hand slid down his chest, froze for a couple of seconds where his heart was beating. It continued its way down his stomach, scratching his abs, and then it was Loki's turn to groan loudly. Her fingers were no less skillful than his, and they were also _hot_.  
  


“Damn you, woman…” he whispered, closing his eyes in bliss. Her thin fingers did no less amazing things than her hot, rough tongue.

"I'll take that as a compliment," she answered, breathing heavily and pulled him to her with her free hand for another kiss. Loki moaned into her mouth as the fingers of her other hand picked up the pace and then slowed down again. He decided to repay her in kind.  
  


They tormented each other for a few more minutes, until Dana stopped and grabbed the trickster by the wrist, stopping him too. Then she brought his hand to her lips and, without interrupting the established eye contact, began to suck his fingers, licking them clear from her own juices.  
  


Loki watched her with wide eyes and slightly parted mouth. Not the slightest bit of shame in Dana's case was perhaps even an understatement. If on Earth such looseness was normal, then the trickster seems to finally understand why his brother ran there to his lady of science at every opportunity.  
  


 _Asgard needs to rethink its patriarchal values_ , he thought, enjoying the erotic performance. _And urgently. Then they will thank me later_.   
  


He kissed her as soon as she finished off his fingers, feeling the echo of her taste in his mouth. Dana answered him with no less fervor, pressing her hot body close to his. The contrast of temperatures once again made them both flinch and groan dully through the kiss. Loki slid his hands down her back, tracing each vertebra with his thumb, then grabbed the woman under her hips and slowly lowered her onto himself.  
  


"Damn it..." they moaned at the same time and immediately stared at each other in surprise.

"Finally there is something we both agree with," said the trickster, grinning.  
  


"Yes," the woman grinned back, "that's for sure."  
  


As soon as Dana began to move, resting her palms on his shoulders, Loki was immediately forced to change his expression from smug to blissful. If before that he felt delightful, now he simply did not have words to describe the pleasure. The woman who was now moving on him and moaning against his lips was gorgeous, hot, sexy, overly confident, completely shameless and absolutely depraved bitch...  
  


And at the moment Loki liked _absolutely all_ about her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not really good in writing such kind of scenes, but I hope I'm not really terrible in this too. If you have some critical words, I'm looking forward for them to read and learn.  
> Please, fellows, leave feedbacks.


	23. Hello again, Uinbjerg!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been a while, but I really had some important stuff to do, so... didn't have much time to write a new chapter.
> 
> I hope you liked it. Please, leave me some feedbacks. They inspire me and make me happy ;)

The fact that the night ended and the morning began, Loki and Dana realized only because they suddenly became better able to see each other: the faded light somehow managed to seep inside the spaceship through a thick layer of snow on the windshield. It would not hurt them to find out why most of the electrical appliances were covered, and to remove all the same snow from the windows, but sex tends to exhaust people. Especially if you do it all night in a row (with short breaks for arguments, of course). And nights on Bluin were proven to last far longer than usual ones...

Now two lovers... though no, there was as much love between them as there was shame in Dana. Then, two frien... neither there was enough friendship. Well, you can't just say "two -hell-knows-who-and-how", can you? In general, a man and a woman (there, it seems, everything is right) were now laying on a cold metal floor - although under the woman this floor was palpably warmer - and breathed heavily after their... ehem, long physical and acrobatic exercises, which people under the age of 18 should not be allowed to watch.

"If I'd known this was going to end this way," Loki began, keeping his eyes on the ceiling. The last time he lay like that was after the Hulk had used him as a hammer to damage the floor of the Stark Tower, "I would have kissed you on the first day we met."  
  


"If you did, you would still be lying in a hospital bed," Dana said, continuing to breathe the air with her mouth. "One guy once gave too much freedom to his frisky hands, even though I said "no" very clearly. I kicked him in the balls so hard I sprained my ankle."  
  


"That's harsh."  
  


"I've never been famouse for being gentle."

"Yeah," said trickster, recalling how many times the woman had bitten him, scratched him, or tried to just hurt him. "I've noticed."

"I don't remember you objecting," she chuckled.

"I don't remember saying that harsh is bad."

"Yeah, I've noticed that you like it rough."

"Who would say," Loki chuckled back.

Dana looked down at her body. She had a couple of dark red kissing marks on her chest and stomach, and on her neck and shoulder blades, where she really couldn't see them. There were similar marks on the thighs, though not from kisses, but from fingers, which sometimes had clenched too tightly. However, she did not complain. She had more serious injuries (which, however, she did not complain about either). Once, during sex, one of her partners squeezed her wrist so hard that he accidentally broke the bone. Dana only noticed the injury when she reached out to brush the hair from her forehead after they had finished. Sex was one of the few circumstances under which the woman could forgive a somewhat... rude treatment of herself. First, she loved sex in all its forms. For her, there were no such concepts as "too shameful", "too perverse" or simply "too". Here Dana was perhaps the most tolerant living being. Second, pleasure, as a rule, drowned out the pain completely and thoroughly.  
  


And with Loki, she received a lot of this pleasure. Dana's physical endurance exceeded that of a human by two or three times, but the trickster's endurance was five times higher than her own. It was not even worth talking about physical strength. The woman really had more than enough sexual experience, but she very rarely came across partners whose own experience in this area exceeded several dozens. Loki, on the other hand, was over a thousand years old.

_And he obviously didn’t just read books all this time_ , thought the brown-haired woman, rising from the floor. _Or rather, didn't only read books_.

"Where are you going?" Loki asked immediately, taking a sitting position and materializing back his clothes. For some reason, he was in no hurry to do the same trick with a woman.

"Well, the storm, judging by the sounds, has died down, it's already morning, we need to get to Uinbjerg to start looking for the Hulk, and we still have nothing but the engine and lights working," Dana answered, stretching. Considering that she has not yet had a single piece of clothing, the trickster has received another "delightful sight" in his collection. “So I'm going to climb onto the ship now and check the vents. Something tells me that our electronics fucked up because of the snow, which first accumulated in them, and then melted. And you can clean the windows at this time."

"Are you going out like this?" he arched an eyebrow.

"Do you have something against?" she arched an eyebrow in response.

"And does it matter to you?"

"Not even a bit".

* * *

Dana was right. There was too much snow in the exhaust vents. Snow itself is not harmful to the details of the starship. Unlike water, which it turns into, heating up near these very parts. A little more, and the water would get into the engine compartment and the ship would be screwed. It took an hour to evaporate all the unnecessary moisture, after which two sleepy, but not at all dissatisfied with this fact, members of the search team finally took off.

This time the flight took place in silence. Mainly because Dana, throwing something like: “Wake me up when we arrive. Or when we get into an aircrash ”, threw her legs on a place free from buttons (at least from too important buttons) on the front panel and plunged into a doze.

Loki couldn't help but smile. She fell asleep in his presence. In the case of this woman, it was a hell of a sign of trust. Or maybe she's just a hell of a tired. The thought caused the trickster to change his smile from just satisfied to smug. Dana, of course, had an incredible amount of strength, energy and heat, but Loki had much more of them. Of the first two for sure.

Although, it would be a lie to say that he is not tired at all. His whole body was still filled with pleasent languor. And every time he glanced towards the dozing woman in the next seat, languor was suppressed by the heat in the lower abdomen. After yesterday night (and a part of today morning too) the trickster could not look at Dana the same way as before. And he will hardly ever be amble to. Unless he forgets how he kissed this woman tirelessly, how he squeezed her hot body in his hands, how she moaned and wriggled on top of him, and then against him and under him... Hell, no. Loki was more likely to forget how to use magic than what happened between them.

_This woman is unforgettable_ , thought the trickster, casting a glance at her again, and, rather out of habit, added: _Damn her_.

* * *

Brunnhilde looked uneasily at the clock. Next to her, sitting at a new table in the newly furnished kitchen (thanks Dana for that), Thor was having breakfast, although from the outside it looked like he _alone_ was forced to eat _all_ that was left from the New Year's table- because “Well, we can't just throw it away! So, eat before it goes bad!”- after putting it all on one single plate. Or on some other dish, the Valkyrie could not see. In Asgard, if you can see what the plate is made of, then the portion is too small.

"Are you sure you don't want some?" Thor asked for about the third time, grabbing the fork. Although, perhaps, a pitchfork would be more suitable here.

“Not hungry yet,” Brunnhilde shrugged.

"Are you sure you're fine?" there was a genuine unease in the thunder god's voice. Bad appetite is a very bad sign for asgardians.  
  


"Yes, I'm just... I'm just worried about Dana. Well, and Loki," she hurried to add. "They haven't been there for more than a day".  
  


"Well, the search, after all, is not fast."  
  


"Fast if you have an animal sense of smell."  
  


"Loki has no animal sense of smell," Thor frowned. On an empty stomach he thought badly... that is, even worse than usual.  
  


"I meant Dana."  
  


"Oh."

The next few minutes of silence were disturbed only by vigorous chewing and occasional slurping. In Brunnhilde's head, the thought process has long forgotten the word "stop". Something lately she has started to think too much... And never once touched alcohol since the time she and Dana had had a booze, although the drinks they had on the ship (namely in her bedroom) were enough to plunge a small country into an alcohol abuse.  
  


 _And what the hell is going on with me_...the Valkyrie sighed, reclining on the back of her chair. She was worried about a friend. And most of all she was worried about worrying about a friend. It's not someone like Thor, it's Dana. And in Dana's case, you should worry not for her, but for those with whom she was now. And now it was Loki who was with her. _That's exactely why I'm worried that much_...  
  


Not that she didn't trust Loki (within reasonable limits, of course) or Dana. The last Valkyrie trusted even more than herself. It's just that she didn't trust _the two of them_ that much. When they are together, their attention is completely focused on each other. The world around them becomes for them nothing more than a background, a platform for their next game. And this gave cause for concern, because these two, focusing on each other once again, can get - or rather get stuck - in some trouble. Just because they won't notice it, being too busy having another argument. Or a fight. Or both.

_And it doesn't matter that they are supposedly having a "first date" now_ , the Valkyrie added mentally. _These two would find a reason to argue and fight even in bed_...   
  


Brunnhilde almost choked on the thought. Rather, from a number of thoughts that followed.  
  


"Are you sure you're okay?" Thor asked again, looking up from his food. "You're kind of red."  
  


“It's hot in here,” the Valkyrie replied quickly, trying to chase away unwelcome thoughts. Well, these two just couldn't... Or could they?  
  


"No," the thunder god answered after a while. "Just like always. Even a little cool, I would say..."  
  


"It. Is. Hot. In. Here."  
  


Perhaps, if Dana were here now, she would be proud of how firm, not accepting objections, Brünnhilde's voice uttered the last phrase, forcing the god of thunder to hunch a little.

"Hot it is. Whatever you say," he answered in one breath, immediately returning to breakfast, noting to himself that he liked the Valkyrie with Dana better. However, next to Dana, Thor, probably, would have liked Hela too. Anyone would seem like an acceptable alternative to this woman.

* * *

The road to Uinbjerg took three and a half hours, twenty minutes of which were spent on finding a more or less flat landing site, which was not a parking lot. Of course, the journey to the desired hotel will take them much longer, but they will not have to go through the identity and luggage verification procedure again.

"Hey, wale up," Loki shook the sleeping Dana by her shoulder. "We arrived."

"Mhm..." she muttered indistinctly, frowning with displeasure and opening one eye. "Wow. You managed not to get us into an accident. Good boy."

"Thanks, bitch, I tried."

"And couldn't you try to land this swallow somewhere... I don't know, _in_ the city?"

"I could," said the trickster, turning off the engine. "Would you prefer one of the parking lots with subsequent checkout procedures or a flat roof of some house?"

“I would prefer some vacant lot or playground."

"You mean one of those places with lots of people there?"

"Who immediately scatter when they see that a ship is about to land on their heads."

"It's useless to try to prove anything to you, right?" Loki said somewhat resignedly.

"Why?" the woman grinned. "Learning to prove your point is a very useful skill. Feel free to train it on me."

"The question was rhetorical."

"This does not mean at all it should remain unanswered."  
  


"Is there anything that you leave unanswered?" Loki asked.  
  


"There is."  
  


"And what is that?"  
  


Dana didn't answer. Stretching and yawning widely, she got up from the chair, threw her bag over her shoulder, and headed for the exit. The trickster followed her in silence.

Loki did land the ship not just far away from the center of Uinbjerg, but even from its outskirts. The walk was long. And considering that last night a snowstorm was raging and the snow had time to sweep up to the hips (and in Dana's case, with her meter sixty-two, all way up to the waist), the walk also turned out to be quite difficult.  
  


By the time they got to the hotel where Hulk and Thor and Brunnhilde had been staying, Dana was all soaked. All the way, she had to keep her body temperature high enough to heat not only the air around her, but also the snow in seconds. Only air does not have the habit of turning into the water upon contact with heat, unlike snow. In fact, the woman walked not so much through the snowdrifts as across the river. Cold river, by the way. Snow quickly turns into cold water, but cold water, in turn, turns into warm water rather slowly. Moreover, in such large quantities.  
  


Therefore, once in the hotel lobby, Dana immediately raised her body temperature so that the water on her evaporated in a matter of a few seconds. If she did this on the way here, she would instantly melt snow within a radius of several meters and would find herself in the middle of a shallow, but rapidly expanding lake. The heat was so strong that it was felt not only by Loki, who stood at a distance of two meters from her, but also by everyone who was at that moment in the lobby.

"I will ask this out of pure curiosity," Loki began when Dana, having dried wet clothes and boots, 'cooled down' a bit, "how hot can you get?"

"As hot as a Sun," she replied. "Or even hotter than it, I don't know. Never tried."

"That's... impressive," the trickster summed up.

"Yeah, you can thank my grandfather's genes for that. And mama's as well."

"Will you share some more details?"

"Perhaps," Dana shrugged. "But not now. We didn't come here to chat, remember?"

"Yeah, Hulk," he replied not really happily. "How could I possibly forget?"

"We've all forgotten about him. That's why we're here."

They went to the man who always knows everything about everyone - the bartender. The man behind the counter looked at them with a phlegmatic face. Judging by the level of boredom and general weariness from life in his eyes, the bartender was about seven thousand years old.

"Would you like a drink, sir, ma'am?"

"Milk. Hot," Dana replied, jumping into the high chair. The cup appeared in front of her in less than a minute. The woman immediately raised it to her lips and began to drink in large gulps. A few seconds, and not a single drop of milk was left. "Mmm... yummy! If only you had some cocoa here..."

"We are looking for someone," Loki turned to the man. "Big, green, noisy. Responds to the name Hulk. Have you seen him?"

"Yes, sir. A few days ago. Would you like a drink, sir?"

"No. Did he say where he went next?"

"Yes, he did, sir," the bartender answered in the same monotonous voice. "I can prototype: "Hulk - smash bergs!" I wished him good luck and he left. Would you like a drink, ma'am?"

"More milk," she answered, holding out her empty mug. "Who are the bergs?"

"Local predators. They like in all regions of the planet. One of the most numerous species of local fauna," answered Loki. The woman looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "What? I read it in one of the local encyclopedias. Dangerous creatures."

"Don't worry, sir, ma'am. At the moment, not a single case of an unprovoked attack on a person by a berg has been officially registered."

"Yeah, no shit!"

"Excuse me, ma'am?" a subtle confusion slipped across the bartender's stone face.  
  


“It probably just seems to me this way, but, as for me, the phrase you uttered means something like: not a single person has yet returned from the forest to complain about such an“ unprovoked ”attack,"” Dana said with undisguised sarcasm. "That is, in fact, these bergs only need to choose places for their murders where no one will catch them."

"Ma'am?" well, this phrase could now mean just anything.  
  


"Okay, whatever," the woman waved her off and laid a couple of banknotes on the bar counter. "The milk was good. C'mon, trickster, follow me."  
  


"Where are you going?" Loki asked, following her.  
  


"Firstly, not me, but us. And secondly, what do you mean "where"'? Didn't you hear what that phlegmatic said about our lost one and the local fauna? We go to the forest to help."  
  


“I doubt the Hulk needs our help,” the trickster chuckled, finding himself back in the snow. Considering that this was an urban area, the snow only reached his knees.  
  


“Help the local fauna, trickster,” Dana replied. “Considering how long the Hulk has been walking around here, I doubt very much that bergs are still one of the most numerous species. So we should hurry up. It will be a pity if the poor beasts completely die out."


	24. Deal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been a while, again, and I have to admitt it's gonna continue this way because I have to write my scientific paper for university.  
> Hope it does not affect the work significantely.
> 
> And please, spend few minutes to give me a feedback ;)

"What is the basis of your confidence that we shall move this way?" Loki asked, making his way through the snow drifts. They were heading towards the forest. Only here, in Uinbjerg, whichever direction you turn, you will still go towards the forest. The trees surrounded the city and its surroundings with a solid wall.

"Hope," Dana replied, continuing to walk forward without turning around. "And also my sanity. If the Hulk went to "smash bergs" straight from the bar - which, according to the bartender, he did - then he probably headed towards the forest. And this is the shortest path. The Hulk surely have chosen it."

"Surely? And what does your sense of smell say, and not your sanity?"

"I will ask my sense of smell when we find ourselves in the forest. Now there is no reason to use it."

"So, I get it you don't smell the Hulk?" asked the trickster.

"It's been a few days,” she replied, continuing to purposefully smooth her way and leaving behind a wet path that quickly turned into a slippery one. “Even dogs can only scence a smell not older than a hundred hours. And my sense of smell, even in animal form, is weaker than a dog's by more than one and a half times."

"Then what is the point of using it in the forest? You don't think the smell of the Hulk has decided to stay longer there, do you?"

"Of course no."

"Then how did you plan to look for our unfortunate forgotten?" Loki asked with genuine interest. Sometimes, he did not understand the train of thoughts of this woman completely.

"What do you mean "how"? By the smell, of course!" this time Dana did turned to him, but only to give him a look: 'the fact that you are slow on thinking is clear to me, but is it really that bad?' "Seriously, trickster, stop blunting, or I would even believe that you and the goldilocks are blood brothers, if I didn't know that you are of different species."

Loki froze abruptly, but continued on his way after a moment. The fact that he and Thor are not brothers was known to almost everyone (except, perhaps, most of the people of Asgard). They didn't hide it too much. Moreover, they did not get tired of reminding about it from time to time. But none of them ever stuttered that the trickster was not Asgardian. Not by birth, at least.  
  


Therefore, for Loki, the news that Dana knew abot it came as a surprise. Whether it was pleasant or not, it was difficult to say so far.  
  


_How did she know about this?_ he thought, glaring at the back of the woman walking in front. _She didn't learn it from me, that's for sure. And not from Thor: he avoids it just like mental activity. Valkyrie is also swept aside: she is not aware of this at all. And with Heimdall this woman, it seems, has not yet had time to cross paths_...

"It's all about the smell,” Dana said suddenly. “You and your brother smell differently."

"I didn't ask anything,” the trickster replied in an indifferent tone.

"You didn't ask very loudly."

The silence resumed again. But not for very long.

"Don't all people smell differently?" Loki asked, adding a little step to level himself. But not very much. He liked to wade through the snow more than through the water, which it turned into due to the heat exuded by Dana.

"Yes, but each has, say, a common basis for determining the species. It is the same for all individuals within the same species," explained the brown-haired woman. "Your brother and my sweetie friend have the same basis. And yours is different from theirs."

"So you know who I am?"  
  


"If you mean whether I know what species you belong to, then the answer is no. I may have visited many places and met many people, but I do not know the smells and other distinctive features of all existing species in this multiple universe. I have not yet come across such a smell like yours."

They went on their way again in silence. This time, the silence lasted longer.  
  


“And you…” Loki began cautiously. "Would you like to know?"

"And what would be the point?" Dana shrugged. “I already know everything I need about you: your voice, your smell, your annoying temper, your magic. And the name of the species, after all, is nothing more than just a word. So if you think that educating me in more detail about yourself will make me start treating you in a special way, then you are wrong, trickster. Such trifles don't bother me."

"Is the species a trifle for you?"

"Yep. Just like gender, race, nationality and sexual orientation. Oh yes! And titles and statuses can be added to this list too."

"Then, what matters to you?" the trickster chuckled. "Please, don't say it's the soul?"

"And what does it has to do with all these?" the woman frowned in response. "No, the soul matters a little to me too. In fact, without a consciousness it is nothing more than energy. But consciousness, on the other hand, matters to me. The mind. What person thinks and how. Actions are also important. Attitude towards yourself and others. Motives and intentions. Character. And the level of idiocy, of course. This is just incredibly important."

Loki listened to her and could not help but feel a bit of ... genuine admiration. He more than once heard such speeches about the fact that it is not what is outside that is important, but what is inside, and so on and so forth ... But he never met someone who would not only speak, but also _do_. Not only was there not a drop of lies in Dana's words - he would know - but her actions, come to think of it, confirmed her every word. This woman did not give a shit about who you were: a Valkyrie, a king of Asgard, a magician, a human, a Hulk or whoever else - she will still sting at you and show her displeasure. And from time to time you will most likely be called an idiot. Dana seemed to regard everyone around her as idiots (to one degree or another).

But, strangely, the realization of this fact was... reassuring. The tension, which, as it became clear, was present in him from the moment he realized that she knew about his origin, was gone now. Loki felt more comfortable with himself than ever. He was absolutely sure that if he now showed Dana his true appearance, then her whole reaction would be reduced to a raised eyebrow and words like: "And?" or “If you meant to impress me, you failed. Try something better." This woman would not be frightened (Loki generally doubted that it was possible to scare her with anything) and would not judge. It really wouldn't matter to her. As if he just changed one suit for another.

Perhaps this is what attracts people to her the most. Confidence. Feeling safe. With Dana, you could be yourself and not be afraid that you would be somehow condemned or prejudiced. She did not judge others for who they were and did not care about any judgments of others about herself.  
  


And here Loki, who at one time spent a lot of time trying to impress others, envied her a little bit.

"You are gorgeous woman," he said, knowing full well that she hears every word.

"I know. Although I must admitt, such compliments from you are alarming."

"Last night — and this morning too, for that matter — I complimented you more than once."

"I bet you did!" she exclaimed, grinning. "We were having sex. It would be alarming not to hear any compliments. But compliments during sex don't count. As well as insults."

"Oh really? I'll keep it in mind," Loki grinned back. "Next time I'll tell you a few less pleasant words."

"Trickster, that was one night stand. Okay, in our case, maybe one night and half the morning stnd, but that's not the point. There will be no next time."

For about two minutes Loki was performing the miniature "a man to the waist in the snow with an open mouth and frowning eyebrows", and then the multiple gears in his head set to work. The statement was clearly not to his liking. Not that he had any tender feelings for this woman, he was not that stupid. Hell! They could not even be called friends. Just two familiar people who most of the time annoy each other to no end, but at the same time, for some unclear reasons, experience attraction of a sexual nature, which they succumbed to yesterday. No, Loki definitely did not expect any _major_ changes in the nature of their, it is worth noting, very strange relationship, but he also did not expect that there would be _no_ changes _at all_.

Loki had already anchored a boat with certain views of Dana; and not only anchored, but put it in a dry dock to dry, repaired it here and there, tinted it with fresh paint and scraped off all the shells from the bottom. And by "certain views" was meant the repetition of their yesterday's depravity on a regular basis.  
  


_Oh no, woman_ , thought the trickster, recovering completely. _It won't work that way_.

"So, if there is still any heresy about repeating the yesterday in your skull, then shake it out of there as soon as possible," Dana finished.

"As you wish," the trickster answered her with that very smile, which almost plainly said the decision had been made long ago and no one was going to change it, no matter what anyone just said.

In other words, no one was going to throw out "any heresy about repeating the yesterday." On the contrary, it was given a special place in his thoughts - right on the front line.

"So, comming back to the point," began the trickster, when they were already in front of a solid wall of tall blue trees, "what did you mean when you said you were going to search for the Hulk with the help of your scence of smell, but not by the smell itself?"

"Not by _his_ smell," meeting another incomprehensible look, the woman sighed, apparently resigned to the fact that everything always needs to be explained to everyone like for children. "The smell remains even when its source is moving. If the trail is fresh, you can even determine how long the source has been in one place or another. Hulk is moving. But his trail had long ago become so weak that even a dog's nose would hardly smell it, what can we say about mine. However, the Hulk didn't just run through the woods, right? "Hulk - smash bergs!"

Loki finally got it.

"Corpses," he guessed.

"Exactly. The corpses don't move. And their smell is quite..." the brown-haired woman grimaced, "strong. In such a frost, of course, the decomposition process is much slower, but I do not think that our lost one was especially cerimonized with the poor beasts. The smell of blood, guts and other entrails I will smell even from under the snow," she sucked in air. "But not in this guise."

Dana put the bag on the snow and began to undress. First boots, then jeans, after them came T-shirt, and at the end - underwear. All the items of clothing were neatly folded and put in the bag. The woman handed the bag to a trickster, who was watching the performance without blinking. Over the past 24 hours, he seems to have seen her naked body enough, but he still caught his breath from such a spectacle. When you spend more than a thousand years in a conservative-patriarchal society, and even in the royal layer of the population, where maidens with complex hairstyles usually walk around in expensive jewelry and multi-layered robes, hiding them from head to toe, the sight of a completely naked woman with a lush mane of chocolate hair sort of,say... discourages you.

"Here. You can carry it in your hands or hide in your "pockets" - doesn't matter, but if you lose it, then it's your funeral," Dana handed him her bag. She did it with some reluctance. Apparently, this accessory truely was very dear to her. Loki carefully took the bag, and a couple of seconds later it disappeared into a green glow. "Perfect. Now turn away."

"Did your long forgotten modesty just wake up?" he asked, arching an eyebrow. Such suggestion was hard to believe.

Dana glared back viciously.

"You can stare at me in any guise: in a human one- more or less -, in between one, in a feline one, but not while I'm changing,” she said in a voice that did not tolerate any objections. This voice made it clear that everything will be exactly the way it said, and not otherwise. "Turn away. Now."

Loki decided not to argue and silently turned away. It was a very smart move, especially considering the speed with which this woman's mood changed. Although, he did not quite understand why Dana was so categorically against him seeing her transform into a cat. The trickster himself changed his guises more than once. Remember at least one of his favorite snake-transformation tricks. The memory brought a smile to his face. Maybe it's worth repeating it somehow? It is unlikely that his brother has grown too much smarter since that time...

From further reflections he was distracted by a loud "Meow". Turning around, Loki found the familiar four-legged wad of universal malevolence with large yellow eyes. The cat began to sniff, and then shook its head as if saying: "Follow me," and trotted into the depths of the forest. The trickster tried to keep up.  
  


Dana sometimes stopped to rub against a tree or sharpen her claws on the rough bark, and sometimes she suddenly froze in place, staring at some point and pricking her ears. Loki had no idea what she saw there: no matter how peering he looked, he could see nothing but snow and trees there.

_Such weirdo things, these cats_ , thought the trickster, watching the brown animal. _And what person came up with the idea to make them pets too? It's like making yourself a volunteer servant_.

Loki chuckled as he remembered his own words about how humans, deep down, yearning to obey. It looks like he just found a powerful argument in his favor.  
  


After about an hour, they came out to a small snowy field and immediately realized that someone had definitely been here before them. The gray boulder was missing a significant chunk, and the lower - and not only the lower - branches of the trees were broken off, as if an express had rushed past them at full speed. Such a green, hefty two-legged express.

Loki looked at the cat. She raked one of the snowdrifts with her paws. When she finished, the trickster saw a berg under the snow. Rather, what was once a berg. A huge carcass the size of a bear seemed to have been flattened under pressure. Now, for the first time, Loki was glad that Bluin was so damn cold. At normal temperatures, the smell of a corpse would be unbearable.  
  


Dana headed towards the tall trees again. The trickster followed her, but had to stop when she turned sharply and, arching her back, angrily hissed at him, and then quickly disappeared behind the trees.  
  


He suddenly wondered if all the representatives of the feline family had such a nasty character, or only this particular representative? Loki told himself to find out when they got to Earth. After he and the other Asgardians settle down comfortably there, of course.  
  


Dana returned, still grumpy, but already in a two-legged guise. That was good. It is much more pleasant to admire a displeased naked woman than a displeased hissing cat.  
  


“A bag,” she demanded, holding out her hand.

Loki silently materialized what was required and handed over to its legal (or illegal, who knows) owner. After the transformations, this woman was somehow even more irritated than usual. But he was not going to point out this to her - the instinct of self-preservation was not given to him in vain. Instead, the trickster silently watched Dana dress. That is, at first she rummaged in her bag for several minutes, trying to find a second boot, then another ten minutes in search of a bra, and only after that she began to put on the elements of her wardrobe with difficulty.  
  


“Come on,” she said, throwing her bag over her shoulder.

"No more turning into the cat form, then?" 

"Firstly, I'm not turning into a cat, but transforming," the woman corrected him. "And secondly, there is no more need. I can smell the second corpse even in this form."

"What's the difference?"  
  


“Turning into another form involves the use of magic, trickster. Transformation does not. What is happening to me is biology, not magic."

"Impressive biology indeed," he muttered. "So you are something like a shapeshifter?"

The woman turned so abruptly that Loki almost crashed into her.

"If you call me "something like a shapeshifter-r-r" one mor-r-re time, you your-r-rself will become something like a cr-r-ripple", Dana growled in an extremely displeased voice and, turning away, continued on her way. "I am me. No more and no less."

“Comprehensive information,” said the trickster. "What about telling a little more?"

"What for?"

"For I would be interested to know you better."

"What for?" she asked again without even turning around.

“I’m inquisitive,” Loki replied, without bending his heart. He really loved knowledge as much as magic. Although, in a way, magic can also be considered knowledge, right? Loki never believed that knowing a lot was harmful. Quite the opposite, knowing a lot and using it skillfully is very useful. First of all, for him. But what is really harmful is to show everyone that you know a lot.  
  


“Happy for you, trickster."

"You tell me about yourself and I tell you about Asgard."

  
  
“We have a ship full of Asgardians,” the woman said. "I even have strong friendly relations with one of them. It's been thirty years already. She told me enough."

"Did she tell you about the local magic as well?" the trickster asked with a sly smile.

Dana froze. Just for a moment, but it was enough for Loki to realize that he had hit the bulleye. He and Dana didn't have that many points of contact, but they did existed, and one of those points was magic. This woman was definitely interested in magic. She was incredibly skillful at creating secret paths, which must be very difficult, and she instantly saw through the trickster when he sent her clothes into his "pocket dimension" yesterday. How she managed it, and even so quickly, he still did not know (however, he planned to find out), but this definitely indicated work experience or, at least, an interest in magic as such.

“I am one of the best magicians in Asgard,” Loki continued. "And after Ragnarok, maybe the best. No one can tell you more about our magic than me."

"Are you trying to manipulate me?" this time the woman did turned to face him. She was interested, then.  
  


"Manipulation implies secrecy. I, in turn, openly declare that I offer you information in exchange for information."  
  


Loki seemed to be able to hear the gears turning in her head. The very fact that she is considering his proposal implies that she really wants to know more about the magic of Asgard.  
  


After a couple of minutes of intense mental activity, Dana sighed.  
  


"What exactly are you interested in?"

“You,” Loki replied too quickly, immediately berating himself for his thoughtless answer. “Your… that is, earthly magic, some information about the Earth, preferably of an economic and political nature, some details of your life before Sakaar, although the story of how you and the Valkyrie managed to make friends, I would also listen with pleasure. The geography of Midgard interests me too..."  
  


"Are you preparing the conquest of the Earth, version 2.0?" the woman chuckled.

"For Odin's sake, no! As if one time wasn't enough already. Too much hassle, and for what? More hassle? Thanks, but no, thanks. The plans to conquer worlds are over."

"Glad to hear that. So, nevertheless, why bargain with me for such information?"

"Because neither I, let alone my brother, neither anyone else has such information,” replied the trickster. "And considering where we are going and for what purpose, it would be very useful to us."

The smile immediately disappeared from the woman's face. Now Dana was looking at him as if he had just said the Earth was flat in front of her. It seemed that a little more - and her eye would start twitching.

"Did you just say," she began in a low voice, as if completely not believing in what she herself was saying, "that you two idiots, decided to settle your people on a planet you don’t know a damn thing about?”

"In my defense, I will say that it was not I who decided, but Thor."

"What the hell does it matter who?! What were _you_ thinking about when you agreed?"

_About how a bad this idea is_ , Loki mentally answered her, but decided not to speak out loud. Arguing with this woman, especially when she is in such a state, is not only useless, but can be life-threatening. _And that other ideas are even worse_.

“It was the most acceptable of all possible options,” he chose the right words. "So? Will you try to hammer into my brother's head what's what?"

"Hammer information only ito his head?" the brown-haired woman arched an eyebrow.

"In my case, simple words would be enough,"the trickster chuckled. "My head does not require additional, say, help to perceive information."

"Well, we'll see that. I am a demanding teacher."

"So, we have a deal then?" he held out his hand to her.

"Deal, so be it," Dana answered, holding out her hand in response. 

Smiling, Loki grabbed the palm outstretched in response, only instead of securing their deal with a handshake, the trickster brought her hot hand to his lips and kissed, not without pleasure noting the surprise flashed across her swarthy face.

"Perfect."


	25. The return of prodigal children

The Hulk couldn't think of two things at the same time. For the past few days, much of his thoughts have been devoted to bergs. Three basic thoughts relentlessly replaced one another: "Hulk - look for bergs," "Hulk - chase bergs," and his favorite "Hulk - smash the bergs." But there was a pause between the last and the first thought. And during this pause, the Hulk could hear Banner, who in spite of everything managed to slightly open the trunk of the subconscious, in which he was shoved, shouting something to him. Hulk tried to ignore him, but much time passed, and accordingly there were many pauses between thoughts, so albeit unwittingly, but the Hulk had to hear Banner's complaints that he, the Hulk, has been walking in the woods for too long, and that they are on this planet only temporarily. They should be, at least.

And now, standing in the middle of a wide cave - one of many, because, as it turned out, here the probability of stumbling upon a berg is much higher - the Hulk again heard Banner's annoying voice in his head. He continued to insistently tell him to finish the walk and come back.

“No Banner,” the Hulk said aloud. "Banner - bad. Smash - good."

The green avenger immediately turned his head in search of something, or rather someone to smash. The floor of the cave was strewn with six large dead bergs, which before that were at first sleeping bergs, then fucki… very udevil bergs, and then bergs trying to escape.

Unfortunately for the Hulk, he did not find a living, or even better, attacking berg in the cave. And Banner, meanwhile, did not shut up and, it seems, was not going to. The Hulk was already getting a migraine. Migraine = bad. Hulk feels bad = Hulk must smash to make Hulk feel good. Only there was no one to smash in this cave.

_Hulk - look for bergs_ , the cycle of thoughts resumed, drowning in the head of Banner's annoying voice.

The Hulk came out of the cave... and came across the gorgeous woman and Loki.

From the trunk came joyful: "Thank gods.."

Hulk was also delighted with familiar faces. At the beginning. And then he noticed that the gorgeous woman did not look delighted. On the contrary, she looked very angry. And apparently, she was not angry with Loki: he simply stood on the sidelines and looked first at him, then at her.

"Anything you'd like to tell me?" Dana asked, looking up at him with displeasure with her big yellow eyes.

"Hi, gorgeous woman," the avenger said. He was in no hurry to say hello to Loki.

The Hulk watched as she looked at the cave entrance and frowned. When the woman looked up to him again, she looked not only displeased, but also dissatisfied, and very angry.

"What the hel have you done here?" she almost hissed, burning a hole in him with her flaming eyes.

Hulk felt uncomfortable with that look. He didn't like it. The woman looked at him with a similar look she did when he smashed the kitchen. Then she was upset. Upsating a gorgeous woman = bad. The Hulk didn't like it when he felt bad. Only now, it looks like she wasn't upset. She was angry. Angry look = bad. A gorgeous woman was angry at the Hulk. It's very bad.

"Hulk - smash bergs," the avenger said without his former enthusiasm. He very, very much did not like to be the object of this woman's displeasure.

"Oh, I see that,” the tone of her voice evoked an unpleasant feeling of shame. Shame = bad. "Why did the Hulk begin to smash bergs?"

"Hulk got bored."

Dana's change of mood was felt not only by the Hulk, but also by Loki, who hastened to step back a couple of steps. It was as if they both had that special masculine instinct that allows them to define that very “calm before the storm” during a seemingly everyday conversation with a female representative. The only pity is that the instinct did not work a little earlier.

"Oh, he got bored…” she drawled in the voice of a gentle snake and with a smile as friendly as the blade of a knife. Her gaze from displeased and angry turned into one full of rage, which, combined with a smile, looked not only strange, but also creepy. Hulk, perhaps for the first time in his life, felt fear. "Hulk got bored and decided to go for a walk, right?"

For a moment it seemed to the Hulk that Banner wished him luck before he slammed the truck lid with his own hand.

"Boredom - bad, smash - good?" said the Hulk, only this time somehow uncertainly.

"Smash - good?" the woman folded her arms over her chest. Bad sign. Very, very bad. "Have you forgotten what we were talking about in the kitchen? What did you promise me?"

"Hulk not smash furniture!" the avenger exclaimed immediately. "Hulk smash bergs!"

"And by doing this Hulk make me very upset. Again. I am extremely displeased, Hulk. ANd I am very angry. At you."

"Big monster - not furniture..."

"Monster?" Dana said indignantly. "For you, bergs are monsters?"

"Big teeth and claws,” the avenger listed characteristics. "Monsters."

"I have teeth and claws too,” she immediately showed him the elongated fangs and ten sharp claws. "Am I a monster-r-r for-r-r you too? Ar-r-re you going to kill me too?"

The Hulk shamefully lowered his gaze even lower, looking somewhere in the area of his large green feet. He saw a couple of feet in brown boots, too. One of those feet was pounding discontentedly in the snow. Another very, very, very bad sign.

During this conversation, the avenger had a lot of new equations. Look = bad. Arms crossed on chest = very bad. Stomping = very, very bad. And all together = fu...

"I'm talking to you, Hulk," the woman spoke again. Her voice was not loud. It did not need to be raised: it was so sharp you could shave with it. "Look me in the eyes when I talk to you."

The Hulk forced himself to look up at her with a titanic effort. The gorgeous woman made him feel ashamed and guilty. Both were bad. Even worse than boredom.

"I'm not a monster. And neither are bergs," continued Dana. "They are just animals, Hulk, who were having a calm - well, maybe not quite calm - life in this forest until you came and started killing them. For. No. Reason. Just because, you see, you got bored."

Every word she said was like a blow in the stomach. The Hulk, even though he was at least twice the size of Dana, now felt so small. She made him feel very bad. She was the reason that he feels bad now. And the Hulk was used to smashing everything that makes him feel bad. Gorgeous woman = shame and guilt. Shame = bad. Guilt = bad. Gorgeous woman = bad. Bad = you need to smash. Hulk - smash a gorgeous woman? No, he can't. This is bad. He needed a different approach here. Gorgeous woman = bad. Bad = Banner. Gorgeous woman = Banner? The Hulk's got confused completely.

And then in the Hulk's head suddenly appeared not just a thought, but an _idea_. Gorgeous woman = bad. Banner = bad. Bad and bad are the same. Gorgeous woman and Banner are the identical. Identical can come to an agreement. Let Banner negotiate with a gorgeous woman. And the Hulk - for the first time of his own free will - better stay in the trunk.

Never in all the time that had passed since the ill-fated serum had Banner been so resistant to regaining control. However, the Hulk's desire to hide from an angry gaze, crossed arms on the chest and stomping foot was much stronger than Banner's unwillingness to crawl out of the safe trunk of his own subconscious.

The first thing Bruce felt as he was himself again was cold. Not even cold, no, freeze. The air was so cold it hurt him even to breathe.

"Hulk-k-k, y-y-you are a j-j-je...."

Hot hugs didn't let Banner finish the sentence. The hugs were truly hot, because the snow underneath almost instantly turned into water. When the initial shock passed, it dawned on the doctor that he was now sitting in a pool of heating water, wearing just his pants (or rather what remained of them) and that a gorgeous woman was hugging him with her arms and legs. The very woman who made the Hulk run away into the depths of his subconscious, tucking his non-existent tail.

"Trickster, did you accidentally have another set of men's clothes lying around in your pockets?"

Oh, right! Loki is here too. This is really a surprise.

"I doubt the size is fitting, but..."

Bruce felt an intermediate layer form between him and the hot swarthy skin of the woman hugging him. Rather, several intermediate layers in the form of a black shirt, black jacket, black trousers and black shoes. The shoes seemed to fit the size, but the suit was clearly designed for someone taller and thinner.

"Wasn't there something warmer?" Dana responded again, getting to her feet. Bruce, clinging to her like a lifebuoy (or rather a life-heater), stood up with her.

"Where from? The cold never bothered me much,” Loki shrugged. "Better check your bag. Considering how long you've been rummaging through it in search of your shoes, there is a lot of junk in there."

"My bag is in complete order."

"Of course. As you say."

"Watch your tone, trickster."

"Otherwise?"

"Otherwise I..."

"Um, guys,” Banner hastened to cut in, guessing how it might end, “I don’t want to interfere with your, let's say, conversations, but maybe we’ll return to the city? By the way, when are we leaving?"

There was a strangled cough from Dana's side, and Loki suddenly became very interested in one of the trees.

"How to put it..." began the trickster, but he didn't have to think it over, because Dana intervened.

"Ever seen the movie "Home Alone"? the doctor nodded. “Well, you're Kevin McCallister."

"W-w-wait a minute. Are you saying," Bruce gradually began to understand the entire horror of his situation, "that you flew away without me? Leaving me on a strange and terribly cold planet, where toothy animals are running everywhere?"

"Well, thanks to the Hulk, most of them are no longer running..." trickster remarked. "Like, anywhere."

"And we didn't leave you: just forgot," added Dana.

"What a relief."

"Besides, we came back for you. Now, it's high time for us to get back to the ship. The path is not short, so I advise you to start right now. And considering that we don't have warm clothes, and I'm not going to drag your cold corpse on me, stay close to me, Home Alone."

Bruce sighed resignedly and trailed after Dana, trying not to move more than a meter away from the only heat source. When it came to nicknames, this woman was even worse than Tony Stark. So Banner had no choice but to reconcile and get used to the new nickname.

* * *

Brunnhilde was never married and did not know of motherhood. However, now she felt as if she did had a daughter who had time to grow up and run away from home on a date with a bad guy with long hair and leather clothes. The Valkyrie now finally understood why many mothers always walk with very short nails and seem a little crazy. The only reason her toenails remained intact was her lack of flexibility.

Dana... oh, well and Loki and the Hulk have been away for a very long time. And during this time, all possible scenarios swept through Brunnhilde's head at the speed of light. Most of them, perhaps, did heard about such a concept as logic, however, what it is and how to use it they have not figured out yet. Valkyrie was worried, literally, to the point of madness.

And it was strange, because usually in their pair, Dana played the role of an adult. It was she who played the role of an eternally disgruntled and criticizing teacher, while the Valkyrie did whatever she wanted (for the most part, she was drinking booze without restraint). And now they seemed to have reversed roles: Dana was the one who now was doing hell knows what (the unknowning was what bothered the most), and Brunnhilde had to grow up, in some century. And frankly, she didn't like being an adult. You need to think not only for yourself, but also for others, you need to constantly think about problems and look for ways to solve them, you need to be reasonable, you need to be responsible and a bunch of other "needs". This was hard.

_It was easier with Dana_ , she thought, staring at the windshield in the cockpit. Brünnhilde has spent most of her time here since the moment her friend and trickster left the ship. Yes, living with Dana was definitely easier, because you could always rely on your friend. She has always been the voice of reason. Always displeased, grumpy and most often sarcastic, but it was definitely the voice of a mature responsible person. _How long will this search last? I have already chewed all my nails..._

A dot appeared on the silvery-blue background. This point was growing larger and larger with each passing minute, until it finally took on a familiar shape. The search team was back.

Loud "YESSSSS!" could be heard throughout the whole ship.

* * *

"Sweetie, we are, of course, friends and all that... But in my opinion, the welcome hug somewhat dragged on. For ten minutes for sure," Dana squirmed in displeasure in a strong ring of hands, which squeezed her ribs too tightly. "Get off of me already, before I got hot enough to burn you even through your ammunition."

"You cannot imagine how glad I am to hear this from you,” the Valkyrie squeezed her even tighter.

"Oh gods, we haven't seen each other for a few days. And you are acting as if I just got back from the Hundred Years War."

"I was so worried about you..."

"Hell, this is just what I need..." the woman muttered with displeasure, struggling to escape from the already annoying embrace. "Do I give the impression of a person for whom you need to worry? I am mature, self-sufficient and independent woman. I know how to take care of myself,” the “independent woman ”carefully examined her friend from head to toe. "Unlike others. Have you decided to get yourself a "dental" manicure instead of sleeping at night?"

Brunhilde, somewhat dissatisfied with the fact that her friend had escaped from the embrace, in turn, also examined her for possible injuries. She did not find any injuries, but..

"Is that a hickey?" the Valkyrie pointed to her neck and the part of her chest that the shirt did not hide.

"No, traces of the suckers of an octopus which I tried to cook during the flight."

"Really?"

"Of course not, sweetie!" answered the brown-haired woman. "Where does the kitchen come from on that tiny starship?"

"You mean you did had an octopus with you?" Brunnhilde's both eyebrows went up.

"Hell knows. Maybe, is lying somewhere in a bag..."

For a couple of minutes silence reigned in the cockpit until the Valkyrie remembered how the conversation about seafood began.

"That is, you and Loki..." her taned cheeks began to acquire a reddish tint, "you two..."

"Let's just say," Dana interrupted her. "the grandmaster's yellow swallow was used for its intended purpose."

"For which of its purposes?" clarified the Valkyrie. The first purpose - flying - did not bother her, but the second one...

"For both," the woman replied with a smug smirk.

Brunnhilde had no choice but to hide her already completely reddened face in her palms.  
  


"Oh Gods…"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tried to make funny. I hope you liked it, guys. Don't forget to leave me some feedback. Please:)


	26. Second time to first grade

Four days have passed since the moment Bruce returned on the ship. Most of this time, the crew spent trying to re-adjust to the twenty-four hour lifestyle and wake up at least for lunch, and not for dinner. Dana - an avid lover of lazy naps - categorically refused to adjust back. Therefore, everyone was very surprised when they found her sitting on the kitchen cabinet with a plate of pancakes on her lap.

"Today is the end of the world or something?" Brunnhilde was the first to leave the shock. She took a package of instant food from the shelf and placed it in the microwave. "Since when do you have breakfast in the morning?"

"Can't tell you anything about the end of the world, I don’t do foresight,” the woman shrugged, putting another piece of golden pancake into her mouth and licking her fingers. "And I have breakfast in the morning from today and, probably, until our arrival on Earth."

"Are there any more pancakes?" Bruce asked, turning his gaze from the stove to the fridge. He saw a dirty frying pan in the sink, but there was no dessert anywhere except on Dana's lap.

"Of course not, I cooked for myself."

"Do you want me to cook?" Thor suggested to his friend with a happy smile. “I’ve got a good handle on cooking.”

Four pairs of eyes immediately settled on him inquiringly. In the case of the god of thunder, "got a good handle on cooking" meant that he got two, maybe three recipes from something simple and cooks them one by one, and not always successfully. And then he leaves the dirty dishes in the sink, ostensibly to "soak".

The scientist rightly judged that the first pancakes in Thor's life could well become the last for him, Banner, and therefore hastened to reject the offer of a friend and began to cut the meat. The salad would have suited him much better, except that there were almost no vegetarian products on Bluin, and those that had been in the refrigerator before were long gone. Bruce hoped the food situation would be somewhat different at their next stop.  
  


The microwave squeaked shrilly. Brunnhilde's breakfast was ready. The Valkyrie pulled out a plate and, ignoring the twisted face of her only friend, sat down at the table. After a couple of minutes, Loki joined her deciding to limit himself to only tea. Thor soon took Bruce's place at the cutting board.  
  


The cooking process took place in a somewhat tense silence. It was tense mainly because Dana did not take her eyes off Banner, much less the god of thunder, remembering the incident that led to the need for an overhaul of the kitchen. Well at least Bruce guessed to turn on the hood right away and, just in case, watched not only his frying pan, but also his friend's frying pan.

"So, after all," began the Valkyrie, almost having dealt with his breakfast, "why did you suddenly switch to the morning mode?"

"Because of him,"Dana nodded towards Loki.

Brunnhilde immediately remembered the hickeys on the neck and chest of her friend and felt that she was beginning to blush, wherein from somewhere around her knees. She erratically began to turn her gaze from a tea-drinking trickster to the brown-haired woman eating the last pancake.

"Are you,” she said, dumbfounded, “Did you begin sleeping together again?"

There was a sound of broken glass. It was Banner who dropped the plate on the floor. Good thing it was an empty one.

"Brother!" Thor's voice rang out after seven seconds (again, an empty stomach significantly slows down brain activity).

"I did not quite understand, was it indignation or admiration I heard in your voice?" Loki inquired all the same while drinking tea. If he was surprised at anything, it was that this conversation had not occurred a couple of days earlier.

"What do you mean "again"?" Bruce asked. He, who had been laying most of the time in the trunk of his own subconscious (even if at the end of his "imprisonment" he managed to open it a little), was shocked the most, because when he saw Loki and Dana for the last time, they barely could stand each other's company. "And when was the "first" one?"

"When they went after you," the Valkyrie answered him and again turned to her friend. "If only I had known that you two would start sleeping together, I would not have said a single word to you when you expressed a desire to go searching all alone."

"Brother, how could you?" Thor was still staring at the trickster with an ambiguous expression.  
  


“With great pleasure,” Loki answered him, grinning. "Or do you want details?"

"Yeah, I did missed a lot..." Bruce sighed, taking another plate from the shelf.

"How about ending this circus?" Dana joined the general conversation. “Let's start with the fact, sweetie, that this trickster and I didn't sleep together."

A short wave of relieved sighs passed through the kitchen.

"Fucked - yes, but slept? No," sighs were immediately replaced by a cough. "Me and sleeping with a barely familiar person... How could you even think that of me, sweetie?"

"Hey,” Loki protested. "What do you mean "with a barely familiar"?"

"Trickster, we've known each other for about a month, and that's only because on Bluin one day goes for two. So you're not on my list of friends yet."

"List implies listing, not one single name."

"Don't talk about what you don’t know, trickster."

"They don’t look like lovers to me,” Bruce said to Thor.

"Because we are not lovers!" the discussed respondents answered in unison.

"So you don't sleep together?"  
  


“If only…” the trickster muttered under his breath.  
  


"I told you, sweetie..."  
  


“I mean figuratively,” the reddened Valkyrie corrected herself. “And you know that very well.  
  


"And why is everyone so confused by the word "sex"..." muttered Dana under her breath. "No, sweetie, we do not, as you put it, "sleep" together. The night, of course, turned out to be quite interesting then, but... You know me!"

"That's just the point, but fine," Brunnhilde took the opportunity to close the topic. “Then what did you mean by “because of him”?"

"We made a deal,” the brown-haired woman shrugged. "So from today I will try to drive into these two," she pointed a finger at the brothers, "heads at least some of the information that they should have independently studied before going to Earth in order to arrange a whole people there for PR...  
  


"What is PR?" Thor asked.

Bruce, being a person well acquainted with the education process (a couple of times he was even invited to lecture at universities), looked at Dana with genuine sympathy and mentally wished her luck and patience.  
  


"If I answer: "abbreviation", will it become clearer for you?"  
  


“No,” the thunder god answered honestly. In Asgard, such a concept simply did not exist, for the Asgardians, who have a rather long life expectancy, did not see any reason to reduce anything, even words.  
  


Dana turned to Loki. He just shrugged his shoulders, as if saying: "Nobody said it would be easy."  
  


“Your information should just be pretty damn interesting, trickster,” she said, jumping off the kitchen cabinet. "I'll be waiting for you two in the infirmary in half an hour. The latecomer, goldilocks, I will interrogate at the blackboard."

* * *

During her very long life, Dana has done a hell of things and has gained a hell of work experience in a hell of work areas. She was an excellent archaeologist: thanks to her, the world saw many exhibits (however, the world did not see even more other, more interesting exhibits thanks to her as well). She was a professional photographer: many of her photographs have had incredible success in various court hearings. She also really liked the work of a stripper, especially the uniform. Dana knew all the "delights" of prison life: from both the prisoner and the warden side. She also mastered the economy, especially the part of it that concerned bank accounts (or rather, the machinations of these very accounts) and long-term deposits.

By and large, Dana was a woman with many different talents and many different diplomas. Some of them were even genuine. But most of all, perhaps, she liked the profession of a teacher: both in schools and in universities. In the first case, the woman taught only on condition that the children who, let's say, study there, will be over ten years of age. As for universities, there the process of studying was carried out in a was as ancient as a world: you put a large number of young people as close as possible to a huge number of books and hope that in some incredible way at least something of the latter will flow into the first. While these young people prefer to "put" themselves as close as possible to clubs, bars and other similar establishments - for the same reason and for the same purpose. To the general greatest regret, in higher education institutions, the teaching process was the key point. The teaching staff, of course, has long accepted this and now, basically, did everything possible to avoid participation in this very process. However, no one complained, as the students were also not eager to be educated. So, when Dana taught at universities, her main task was not so much to teach students something, but simply to exist and be the reason why they will start learning on their own. She coped with this task with a bang.

Teaching was her vocation, and not because of her love for children. No, Dana disliked children, and she herself, in turn, caused in children a mixture of fear, delight and a lack of understanding of what to do: cry, laugh or run away before it's too late. That is why the discipline in her classes was on such a level that military commanders could do nothing but smoking nervously on the sidelines, looking through tears and learning from the coach. Dana's students' dogs never ate a notebook with their homework. On the contrary, even if someone in the class did have a dog, it would bring a pen and look at student with pleading eyes until the homework was completed.

Dana's students never lied to her, or rather, they never succeeded in making her believe a lie: as soon as they began to invent on the go or say a pre-rehearsed excuse, the woman endowed them with a Look, with which she seemed to study their very souls and mark with red circles especially unpleasant places. When Dana looked at her students (and not only them), she seemed to give marks.

She also had no problematic students. More precisely, there were some, but they did not stay that way for a long time. At parents' meetings, many mothers (although many fathers also came to her parents' meetings, even though some mothers were categorically against) admitted to Dana that they were amazed at the changes that had taken place in their child to the core. Even though the kid now sleeps only with the light on. 

In short, Dana really loved teaching, and what's the most important - she was damn good at it. The teacher’s work allowed her to lecture a great amount of people, to be the focus of their attention and to get money for all that. In fact, she did what she always did, only she got paid for it every month. That's what "Dream work" really looks like.

Now, of course, she was not in the classroom or university auditorium, but in the infirmary, and not fifty students were listening to her, but only two. However, there were a couple of pluses: there was no call to determine the end of the school day, and there were no head teachers and directors. Though, there weren't any textbooks or copybooks either, but the experience of teaching in senior classes proved her that this did not interfere with the educational process at all.

At the moment, it was the eighth hour of the lecture which Dana titled as "Planet Earth: A Brief Description for Two Divine Idiots."

"… and last but not least, Japan,” another syringe flew past the trickster's ear. Actually, only for the sake of this kind of "Darts" the woman chose the infirmary as the audience for her classes. As practice shows, flying piercing and cutting objects contribute to a significant improvement in concentration. "It seems I have listed everything. In total, today we have one globe, one natural satellite, thirteen climatic zones, five oceans, seventy-three seas, not counting the Caspian, Aral, Dead and Galilee, about five million lakes, twenty-two main mountain systems, six mainlands, seven continents, five hundred thousand islands and one hundred ninety-seven countries. Any questions?"

The answer was the silence typical of a group of third-year students who had served six pairs in a row. The only possible question in such a situation is: “Can we go home? We still have to finish writing the term paper...".

Thor did not lie down and did not fall asleep in a hospital bed only because of syringes and scalpels flying around the "audience". His brain, not accustomed to such loads, borrowed strength from the muscles, and the muscles, in turn, borrowed it from the bones, as a result of which not only his head ached, but the whole body. Even the hair seemed to be exhausted.

Loki was doing better, but not much. It's not the first time his brain gyrus has been working on all eight cylinders, but even they needed time to process all the information that came to the brain in the last eight hours. And given that all these eight hours, Dana's mouth almost did not close, there was a fuc... well, a lot of information. The trickster would even be surprised that Dana had not yet become hoarse if his suffering brain had enough time and energy for this. Yeah, this woman's vocal cords were incredible. As, however, was her brain which holds all this information.  
  


Dana looked at this “forest of hands” with a displeased look. Usually, when the there are no questions after phrase: "Any questions?", this means either: everyone has assimilate the material so well that no questions have arisen; or: everyone has assimilate the material so badly that they don't even know what to ask. Usually, which of the two options was correct is found out during the examination of the exam papers.

"No questions. Perfect," she concluded. "Then here's your homework: using all the information you have about the Earth, and thanks to me you have it - I hope - quite enough, finally decide on your future permanent residence. I'm not talking about a particular country yet - I doubt you've memorized at least half of the names - no, determine with the mainland for a start or with the climate belt, and better with both. Deadline is the end of the week. For now, I'm gonna top up you with general information, and after you do your homework, we'll start an in-depth study of the region. Any questions about homework?"

And again silence. Both asgardians continued to sit unsardedly and silently clap with three tired, sad eyes. Only the sounds of crickets in the background were missing to complete the picture. Or tumbleweeds. Although according to the "students" what was missing is a lack of a call that would finally free them from these torments.

"No questions about homework," Dana concluded. "Well, judging by your sour faces, you are unlikely to do another pair, and even if you do, neither I nor you will benefit from it, so I think that will be all for tod... Sit back you two!" she immediately interrupted the escape attempt. Brothers with martyred expressions on their faces dutifully returned to the places, mentally whining. "Just look at how much energy they've got. You do something like that again and you are gonna have additional classes. Is it clear?"

"Yes,” the gods responded with displeasure. They have already forgotten what it is like to study. Moreover, under the guidance of such a teacher. The trickster has already regretted the deal more than once: knowledge, of course, is the greatest of treasures, but his own health is also worth a lot.

"Perfect. We meet tomorrow here at the same time," the woman certainly looked if not satisfied, then not as dissatisfied as before. "You can be free now."

Asgardians were clean off.They've been waiting for this moment for the past few hours. Dana looked after them for a while, and then, making sure that no one was there, smiled smugly and went to her room. She had almost forgotten what it was like to teach. Now she had some definite goal: before arriving on Earth, she was going to make two educated people out of the gods.

_Yeah_ , thought the woman, collapsing onto her bed. Her thoughts turned to Thor. _There is an unfortunate excess of raw materials here_. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked it. Don't forget to leave me feedbacks, they are truly important to me :)


	27. Tea with milk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And... Here we are! This time it took me less to write it for you. I wanted to write it by the end of the celebration and waswriting as fast as I can, but something went south, so... the gift is a bit belated.  
> Anyway, I hope my rush did not spoil the chapter.
> 
> Waiting patiently (not that I have much patience) for your feedbacks. Let me know how you feel about my work.

Loki felt a thousand years younger: he had to attend classes again, make sure that his brother was not late and did not skip (it was much easier now: it was enough just to remind him who their teacher was), do homework and pore over what he had learned. material. It was difficult even for him to absorb all that huge amount of information, but Loki was happy. He loved learning as much as Thor loved fighting. Maybe even more.  
  


 _I must admit, this woman keeps her word_ , thought Loki, sitting in the kitchen, waiting for the kettle to boil. Today's lectures ended three hours ago, and dinner time even earlier. During class, his brother was so tired that he skipped the last meal and immediately went to his place, where he lay down on his side and began to snore. _I wonder when she will come to demand that I keep mine?_

That was what worried Loki from time to time. Dana have lectured him and Thor for four days in a row, but she haven't even hinted that the trickster would fulfill his end of the deal. Forgot? How! Judging by what she tells him and her brother for hours, this woman does not so easily part with the information she has received.

There was a click. The kettle boiled. Loki materialized the package of tea and began to brew his favorite drink. It was unusually quiet. Everyone was already asleep. Most of the Asgardians and Thor with Bruce for sure. The only sound in the kitchen was the ticking of the clock on the wall. The trickster was watching the water in the teapot grow darker, listening to the measured ticking of the clock, and was almost falling asleep standing.

Therefore, when there was the sound of the refrigerator door opening, Loki almost jumped. It was Dana. And it seems that before she was in the kitchen, she had time to visit the bathroom. The thick mane of dark hair straightened under the weight of the water and dropped down at the roots, making the woman appear shorter. The swarthy skin was damp, which caused the pink silk of the familiar robe to stick to her body in certain places. Just like Loki's gaze.

He watched as she took a carton of milk out of the refrigerator and poured it into a cup, and memories of that stormy (in every sense) night on Bluin were flashing before his eyes. He felt heat poured over him, as if a hot female body was pressed against him again. So flexible, strong and at the same time so malleable...

Loki forced himself to turn the gaze away. The tea was brewed. He took out a cup and began to fill it, trying with all his might not to think about the woman standing only a few steps away from him. It turned out, frankly, terrible. Obsessive images did not want to leave his head.

He tried to remember if he had ever been similarly fixated on any other female. The trickster mentally returned to the time when his and his brother's favorite activity was the pursuit of skirts. And he did not mean their childhood, when they were running after their motherl. Loki vividly remembered the sumptuous feasts and balls in the huge halls of the palace. He remembered every detail: the golden floor polished to a shine, on which couples danced, a high ceiling with mosaics, massive wooden tables covered with embroidered tablecloths full of various food and drinks (as well as various food additives such as poison or grated glass, carefully added by those who wish move up the social and career ladder), small talk, live music, which was necessary not so much for dancing as to muffle the aforementioned talks (as well as the death rales of aristocrats in which schizophrenia and absolute suspicion have not developed strongly enough). And the trickster remembered very well how he and Thor, as teenagers and youngsters, ran through all this splendor after young fair maidens in silk dresses and elaborate hairstyles. He remembered how they competed, who by the end of the ball would be able to dance with a larger number of girls, who could steal more kisses, and maybe not only kisses. However, with insufficient caution, such competitions quickly turned into a game of who would grab the harder punishment. 

Loki had to admit that most often the winner in such competitions (regarding girls, not punishments from Odin) was Fandral, whose love for the pursuit of skirts manifested itself earlier, and therefore he had more time to become skilled in this "sport". The trickster suddenly imagined how the acquaintance of the Dashing from the Trinity and Dana would have gone.

_Fandral would surely have been knocked dead, quite literally,_ the thought made Loki smile.

However, come to think about it, if Dana showed up for one of the palace receptions, everyone would have been smitten, including Odin. He was sure that even Heimdall would be taken aback. The trickster could actually see how this woman, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt (he tried not to think about a pink robe), was slowly walking along the golden floor, looking around skeptically. The hall would have froze in silence in an instant. Everyone would stare at the curiosity, forgetting about all the rules of decency and manners. Loki would not take his eyes off either. Even Odin would sit on the throne with his mouth open. Then, when everyone would have recovered a little from the shock, someone would probably have ordered the guards to seize her...

The smile on the trickster's face grew wider. He would give anything to see how the guards would try to obey the order. Or better yet, how Odin would conduct the interrogation.

_In less than a day, this woman would have managed to earn herself several life sentences in the dungeons of Asgard, a couple of exiles and repeated pulling out of the tongue_.

"Did you brew weed instead of tea, or something?" Dana's voice pulled the trickster out of the abyss of his own fantasies.

"What does weeds have to do with it?"

"When there is a lecture on drugs and medicine, you will understand what I mean,” the woman replied, carrying a cup of milk to the table. The vessel was clearly not heavy, but she held it with both hands. Only then did Loki notice steam rising from the swarthy palms. Dana used her own hands instead of the microwave. "Or you won't if you don't have enough brains. So what made you smile like the Cheshire Cat?"

"Which cat?" Loki took a cup of tea in one hand and a teapot in the other, and sat down at the table.

"Never mind. If you and your brother learn the material quickly enough, which I doubt, I will give you a couple of lectures on literature, and then you will understand this reference too." the brown-haired woman stood next to him, leaning her hip on the table. "So will you tell me the reason for your sudden fun or not?"

"I just imagined you in Asgard."

The kitchen was quiet again. Only the measured ticking of the clock broke this silence. Loki was sitting at the table, still not taking a single sip of the Uinbjerg tea he loved so much, and Dana continued to stand motionless with a cup of milk in her hands and pensively looked either at her interlocutor, or somewhere through him.

After about a minute, the woman put the cup on the table, pulled out an adjacent chair, turned it back forward and saddled it. Therefore, the continuation still follows.

"And?" she finally asked, again taking the cup in hot hands. "What impression did I make on Asgard?"

"Indelible,” the trickster picked up the right word and lifted the cup to his lips. "You would definitely stand out from the crowd."

"Of course. First of all, because I would not be in the crowd."

"As for me, the main reason would still be your clothes. Asgardians prefer robes..."

"Which are the more complicated, the better," finished the woman for him. "Seriously, your Asgardian gears should be accompanied by instructions and, just in case, specially trained staff. I'll tell you what, trickster: if you need someone's help to put on or take off the clothes - fuck such clothes."

"I'm not sure about the instructions, but there really is a specially trained staff in the palace," Loki answered and immediately corrected himself: "Or rather, there was."

Both of the woman's eyebrows went up slowly. The sight made Loki smile again.

"Wow," said Dana after a short silence. "It turns out that not only on Earth aristocrats are not able to dress and undress on their own. This universe continues to amaze me. I hope the situation was better with the soldiers? I just see this picture, how they are shouting in your barracks: “Heads up! We were attacked!" And your warriors are like,"Does anyone know how to put this thing on? What is this anyway?", "Where is the special staff attached to my armor? I can't find pants!" or “My boot-buttoning specialist has just been hit by an arrow. Can anyone borrow theirs? I'll return it later, honestly-honestly!"

The trickster was laughing now. What a woman... One will definitely not get bored with her.

"Did I say something funny?" the woman arched an eyebrow inquiringly.

This only made Loki laugh harder.

_I don’t even remember the last time I laughed like that_ , thought the trickster, calming down a little. _I seem to begin to understand why the Valkyrie loves her so much: this woman is definitely something..._ in just a few seconds all their not too long acquaintance flashed through his head, during which Dana made him experience more emotions than in the last couple of years. _Something truly gorgeous_.

"You're not so far from the truth, by the way,” Loki finally answered. “Although Asgard has rarely been attacked. Usually everything happened exactly the opposite."

"Yes, sweetie talked a lot about how you loved... how she put it for the last time... "to bring civilization and protection to other worlds."

"And at the same time take away gold and relics from them,” added Loki, who, unlike his brother, did not read history books through pink glasses. Even as a child, he could give odds to many politicians. "Speaking of relics. I remember I promised you information about the magic of Asgard."

"You remember right," Dana looked at him with an anticipatory smile and made herself comfortable. “I’m all about attention, trickster."

"In that case," he leaned forward slightly, putting both hands on the table, "I think I should start with the palace museum of magical artifacts..."

* * *

Brunnhilde woke up from the fact that she wanted to drink. She threw her blue cloak over her pajamas and headed for the kitchen. The first thing she noticed was the lights on. The second was Loki's voice. And the third - Dana's voice.

_Are they now fighting on the night shifts as well?_ the Valkyrie added a little step. _As if we haven't got enough of this_...

Her fears, fortunately, were not confirmed. Loki and Dana were in fact in the kitchen, and they were in fact having a conversation. Only not in poisonous tones, as they usually love to, but - the Valkyries even had to pinch herselve to believe it - like normal people. These two were just sitting at the table, drinking their own beverages and talking. They did not call each other names, did not throw sharp words, did not fight (thank God) and did not even try to burn a hole in each other, but simply chatted. Although, it must be admitted, it was Loki who chatted mostly. Dana listened attentively and sometimes clarified something.

_Un-be-lie-va-ble_ , this struck Brunnhilde most of all. Her friend was really listening. And to whom? Loki. Until now, the only living creature whose talks for Dana were not empty words was the Valkyrie. _Is it true I am not sleeping?_

"How long will you stand in the doorway, sweetie?" Dana asked, casting a quick glance at her. And then she turned her attention back to her interlocutor. "Go on, trickster. You stopped on seven-league boots. Although I don’t know why the hell would someone need them? For me, a vehicle that sometimes tries to carry one leg seven leagues away from the other is not the most comfortable means of transportation. You need either very long legs, or a very good stretch..."

"You take everything too literally," Loki grinned, refilling the cup with already cooled tea. "Seven-league boots allow you to move on any surface. Even on walls or clotheslines."

"Why then they were not called "all-terrain boots"? This is more logical, as for me."

"You see, logic is not the most popular science in Asgard."

"Yeah, that's rather obvious," the woman took a sip of milk. Unlike tea, her drink was not cold at all. "So, these boots are also part of the loot... hard-earned goods?"

"They were made in Vanaheim. They ended up in Asgard as a dowry for my mother when she got married."

"When she got married or when she was married off?" Dana clarified.

"Married off, but she didn't really resist,” Loki admitted. “And in Vanaheim, these shoes was called running boots."

"Also not the most logical name, but anyway better than "seven-league boots". So, your dear mummy is from Vanaheim..." the woman pondered. "A good place. Beautiful nature and fresh air. If not for the monarchical order..."

"You've been to Vanaheim?" the trickster was surprised.

"I visited local witches several times. We had something to chat about. And what else, besides boots, did Asgard hog up from there?"

"Many things, actually," Loki replied. "Ever heard about the invisibility cloak? So..."

Brunnhilde drank water from a glass in mute shock, her round eyes fixed on the chatting couple. The trickster talked about the magical artifacts of Asgard, and Dana listened to his every word. Now, for the first time, these two looked like normal, civilized creatures, able to calmly communicate with each other without much damage to physical and mental health.

_Unbelivable_ , thought the Valkyrie as she left the kitchen.

"Sweet dreams, sweetie!" came after her.

* * *

They talked until the teapot was completely empty. By this time, Dana's hair had time to completely dry, again acquire waviness in addition to disheveledness and now resembled a completely independent creature that settled on her head.

"Yeah," the woman put on the table a long-empty cup and got up from the table. "The Asgardian Museum has amassed a good collection."

Dana carried the cup to the sink, and then began to stretch, flexing her muscles from the long sitting.

A similar picture immediately appeared before Loki's eyes. It as well showed a disheveled Dana and she, too, was stretching. Only then she was not wearing a pink robe. There was _nothing_ on her _at all_.

The trickster swallowed. The memories of a stormy night, which he had somehow managed to suppress a few hours ago, flooded with renewed vigor. Again he felt the viscous warmth slowly spread through his body and his pulse quickened. And all this despite the fact that the woman in front of him was dressed. Not completely, but still.

He desperately wanted to touch her. And not only…

"Whatever you're fantasizing about, trickster," said Dana with her eyes closed, still standing on her tiptoes with herhands up, "no."

"Why?" he asked immediately. He had no intention of asking how she knew about the nature of his thoughts.

"Because it was one-night stand. Therefore, as I already said, there will be no repetition."

"Why?" Loki took a step forward. The woman immediately stopped stretching and opened her eyes, but did not take a step back. "It was great. Just amazing, I would even say."

"Of course it was, I was directly involved in this,” she shrugged casually. “Although I have to admit, you were pretty good too. But here's the thing, trickster, this kind of thing is good because it is short-lived. They happened, left a vivid memory and departed."

"A vivid memory doesn't have to be only one," he took another step. Dana was still stubbornly standing still.

"Too many shared memories can, say, put in someone's head a false idea of the nature of someone's relationship. Many people tend to confuse sex with falling in love."

"Good thing you and I don't belong to these many," another step. "I admit, I'm somewhat insane, but not enough to fall in love. Especially with someone like you. I try to avoid bitchy and impudent women, just as my brother avoids deliberate actions, and you won't meet many women more bitchy and impudent than you!"

"You are flattering me," the brown-haired woman grinned.

"There is more poison in you than in all the secret places of the aristocrats put together, and your absolute confidence in your own righteousness is even worse than your bastardness and eternal discontent."

"I like your way of explaining yourself, trickster. I have never heard such compliments."

"You annoy me like no one and nothing else," they were separated by only some three steps. "And sometimes I really want to strangle you."

"Congratulations, trickster, your feelings are mutual."

"Hmm, to strangle and to have sex on a regular basis... You have rather antagonistic desires, trickster," Dana muttered, still not moving from her place.

"That's for sure."

Silence reigned in the kitchen again, broken only by the ticking of the clock. However, everyone got used to this sound so much that they did not even pay attention.

"And I recently decided for myself to make friends with you, you know?" Dana broke the silence after a couple of minutes. "And here you are with your desires... Not that I would be against sex. Quite the opposite, usually I am with both my hands up for it, but..."

"But what?" Loki asked impatiently. The fact that this woman did not say no again gave good reason to hope that the sentence would be changed in his favor.

"I want a new friend more than I want a new sexual partner."

"It is not necessary to choose only one thing."

"My life experience says that it is," the brown-haired woman sighed. “You see, trickster, I have no problem distinguishing one from the other. Probably due to the fact that I have lived longer and have better self-control, or I am simply not able to love someone more than myself... Anyway, it doesn't matter. The fact is that **I** can combine sex with friendship in such a way that there is no illusion or, God forbid, genuine love. But my, say, "second halves"... Well, they eventually began to have problems with this. And this, in turn, made problems for me. After all, it just so happened that mixing friendship and love - no matter whether it is real or not - is much more difficult than mixing friendship and sex. Both sides suffer: one - because of unrequited love, and the other - because of a fucked up friendship. And I don't have that many friends to throw around trickster. So…"

"This will not happen with me,” Loki interrupted her, taking another step forward. "I've also lived a lot, and I am also good friends with my own head. Although I must confess that with your appearance on this ship, some components of my thinking have become a little insolent. But I am prudent enough not to create illusions for myself, and even more so to believe them. Unlike you, I am _trully_ selfish and primarily think about myself and not about others. Within reasonable limits, of course. And being friends with you is much more profitable for me than falling in love with you. Thus you don't have to worry about me getting tender feelings for you, bitch. This will never happen."

Another pause.

"You promise?" Dana asked quietly after some time of active reflection. "Are you ready to swear by the memory of your mother that you will not fall in love with me?"

"And won't you believe the usual "I give you my word”?

"Your word? Bitch please! Even your brother learned not to believe it. And this is considering his level of intellectual development."

" Yeah. So far, this was perhaps his most outstanding achievement,” the trickster chuckled. "In that case, I swear by the memory of my mother that I will never fall in love with the bitchy impudent woman who is now standing in front of me. Well, what do you say now?"

The last step that separated them from each other was already overcome by Dana. It was more difficult to reach Loki's face while standing than it was when she was astride, but still she succeeded. She kissed him the same way she had on that night in the blizzard: hard, assertive, deep, using both her tongue and sharp teeth. The trickster paid her in the same coin. One of his hands buried in her tousled hair, tangling it even more, and the other wrapped around her back like a snake, pressing her body against his almost to the point of pain in the ribs.

The woman broke the kiss as abruptly as she began it, but was in no hurry to pull back. They continued to stand close to each other for a while, breathing heavily and not daring to break eye contact.

"Was it yes?" Loki asked in a whisper.

"It was "I'll think about it."


End file.
